Until Tomorrow
by Her Royal Nonsense
Summary: Following the death of her father, Christine finds herself thrust into a dark and soulless world where she must fight to keep a firm grasp on her compassion. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Modern day, AU. COMPLETE.
1. Christine

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Modern day, AU. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Phantom of the Opera / Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N: **This is my first fan fiction, well, that's not true, second if you count a one-shot alternate ending that I may or may not post. Anyway, I hope it's not too bad. I'm pretty sure this will basically follow a plotline similar to Phantom's- only taking place in a more La Femme Nikita like world. I was going to rename Section One to Division instead, but that just sounded silly. Hmm, if you couldn't already guess, Christine and Erik are the new Nikita and Michael. I think everything else can pretty much stand on its own. And yes, this is going to be a Gerik, sorry to those who aren't too fond of him. But I like him. Yep. So, review if you'd like to. I'm obviously not making you, because I can't really do that, but it would be nice. I'm also in need of a beta if anyone's interested. So, kisses and have a happy Wednesday. :) Anyway, on with the show!

* * *

_My name is __Christine Daaé__. I am twenty-six years old, residing in an isolated little town, basically located in the middle of nowhere. After my father died six years ago, I was recruited into a secretive government agency called Section One. They told me I was dead to the world, and as long as I followed orders and followed them well I would be allowed to live. Though I suppose the more appropriate term would be to exist. Eventually, I did end up leaving the section, and life for me has vastly improved since my escape. Nonetheless, I cannot help but think of how drastically it has changed in a mere six years. This is the story of my time in Section, as well as my forbidden romance with a fellow agent, Erik Vachon.

* * *

_

It was the white, blinding light that woke her. Christine Daaé clamped her eyes closed as she slowly slipped back into consciousness. Clouded images of a life she'd soon be forced to leave behind spun around in her head, making her even more dazed as she tried hard to focus. Propping herself rather clumsily onto the side of the bed, she opened her eyes to absorb her surroundings.

Everything in the room was a clean, bright white, reminding her of those padded cells she used to see in the movies. The only piece of furniture was the bed she was sitting on, and it was oddly positioned right in the middle of the small room. There was also a large mirror in place of a wall. Christine walked up to it absentmindedly, as if in a dream. She studied her reflection, instantly taking notice of the elaborate, white lace nightgown that adorned her small body. It certainly was not hers, not to mention it was much too expensive for her simple tastes.

The thick opening of a door pulled her from her thoughts, causing her to jump in alarm. Christine released a surprised gasp and pressed her back against the wall, not taking her eyes off of the dark, intimidating figure that joined her. She watched in silence as he casually shut the door, looking up at her after locking it. A pure, white half-mask glared at her, and golden eyes from beneath it bore hard into her own. The man stepped closer, and Christine backed herself ungracefully into to the wall in fear. She could hear the man release a faint sigh.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He told her quietly, not getting any closer to the trembling girl.

"Who- who are you?" She asked, noticing that her voice was raspier than normal.

"My name is Erik."

Christine shook her head, as she finally found herself beginning to panic. "What do you want with me?!? Why am I…"

"Here? You'll find out soon enough, Christine."

"Where's my father!? I need to talk to my father…" Christine made a mad dash for the door before she could even think of what she was doing, but was caught instantly by a very calm and agile Erik.

He pressed her against the wall, holding her shoulders tightly as she tried to struggle and free herself. If Christine had bothered to look up in her fight she would have noticed that he looked rather… bored.

"There's no point in trying that, Christine. It'll get you nowhere." He told her, very matter-of-factly.

"You don't understand, I need to see my father!" She continued to thrash about, kicking, biting, anything to get Erik to let go, but he did not budge.

"I mean it, Christine, don't anger me…" Erik clenched his teeth, clearly becoming rather annoyed at her fit.

"No! Let me go!"

"Charles Daaé is dead, Christine!"

* * *

It was only then that Erik released his hold on her. Christine stumbled away from the masked man, tripping on the hem of her nightgown ungracefully. She fell to the ground in a mess of lace and golden curls. "No, you're lying," she sobbed, "you're lying!"

"No, Christine," he said, the sorrow evident in his tone. He pulled out a folded piece of newspaper from his pocket, handing it to her slowly.

Christine took the clipping from him, holding it away from her as she read the headline to herself.

_Father and daughter killed in crash; 3 others wounded_

"No! This… no!" She screamed, ripping the clipping.

_This cannot be happening! No, I must be dreaming, I need to wake up! I need to wake up, NOW! This cannot be happening, not now, no, we were so happy! I must be dreaming!_

Christine then began to attack _herself_, viciously biting through her own skin in an attempt to wake herself up. She once again could feel Erik trying to subdue her, but she paid the masked man no heed. Eventually she had to give up: it was getting her nowhere. She was wide awake, and never was there a time in her 20 years had she been so terrified. She collapsed against Erik, desperately needing someone to hold her as she cried out for her father. She didn't notice as Erik lowered them both to the ground, embracing her rather awkwardly.

"No, this can't be happening, no, I can't, he can't," Christine sobbed, "no..." Her father was all she had left in this world, since her mother had died only recently. They were all each other had, and she loved her father more than anything. She didn't want to believe it, she couldn't believe it, but somewhere inside of her heart she knew it was true. She did not want to even live anymore, not when she had nothing to live for. God had taken away the one thing that meant everything to her, the one thing that was most precious, and then abandoned her to this… place. This place, this wretched place where she was trapped and all alone. Long, dreadful hours passed as she cried alone for her poor father, failing to notice that Erik had left her a long while ago.

_But we were so happy only days ago, how could this of happened? Why am I still alive? I should be dead. Wait, no…_

Christine reached for the pieces of newspaper that littered the ground of the small, white room she was confined to. She struggled with putting them together, fumbling with the tiny pieces. "Fath- father and daughter killed- what," Christine studied the two faces of the deceased, gasping as a picture of herself glared back at her. Underneath it read, 'Christine Daaé, 20'.

* * *

Erik couldn't stay, he couldn't find the strength to sit there and lie to her. He couldn't find it within himself to tell her it was going to be okay, not when he knew better. After ensuring that Christine's door was locked, he entered the darkened observation room just adjacent to it. There was one worker present, observing Christine through the one-way-mirror.

"Leave." Erik commanded in a cold, emotionless manner. The worker knew better than to argue and left Erik alone. He sat down, opening up the countless files on Christine on the laptop in a fruitless attempt to distract himself from her grief. He couldn't help but pity her; normally the recruits were not brought in this way. They did not have to deal with what she is forced to. It wasn't fair, even he could see that.

It was then that a ringing from the computer sounded, and a stern female voice came from the speakers. "Erik?"

"I am here."

"How is she?"

"As to be expected. She lost her father, and I highly doubt she's thrilled about being here."

"And does she know what she's doing here?" The female asked delicately.

"No, not yet. I did not get the chance to enlighten her in regards to that." He snapped.

"Well, you better get on that."

"Madame, with all due respect, I don't think this girl is cut out for what we do here." Erik argued through clenched teeth.

"I suppose that is your call, Erik, but I'm sure that you are well aware of what the only other option is."

Erik sighed in defeat. He did know all too well what the only other option for _anybody_ here is. He couldn't allow that to befall Christine, and if that meant treating her like any other trainee here, than so be it.


	2. Mistakes

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Modern day, AU. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N: **Just in case you're wondering, this Christine will be much more self determined and headstrong than she's probably supposed to be. And she's going to be blonde. I'm really not a huge fan of weak, damsel-in-distress Christine. Additionally, Raoul, and Nadir will be introduced in this chapter, and then Madame Giry in the third. Thanks to Rose of Night and MonMaskedAnge for the sweet reviews, and to those who read as well. If anyone else was a bit confused with the two rooms, one is Christine's and the other is an observation room. Instead of a wall adjoining the two, it's just a one-way-mirror, so they can see her but she can't see them. I hope that clears it up a bit. Now bear with me here, this chapter is a bit of back-story, hinting as to one of the real reasons she's there. The next chapter will probably be a bit longer as we pick things up again. Yes. I'm still looking for a beta, so if anyone's interested drop me a line. I hope you enjoy this next installment. Feel free to review as well, or check out my one-shot 'Her Promise' - Shameless plugging. Aha. Anyway, Happy Friday!

* * *

Christine was numb to everything around her. She had long since ceased crying, and now was lying on her back while focusing on the white stucco wall ahead of her. She had no idea how much time had passed since Erik had left her alone with only her grief and heartache for company, but she was not particularly looking forward to his return. A dozen thoughts crossed her mind; but all she really wanted to know now was why she was here, and when she was leaving. Surely, she had to be there for Papa's…

_No, don't think about that, Christine. You can't handle that right now._

At that moment, whispers sounded from behind the only door in the room. They were much too faint for Christine to decipher, and in all actuality she wasn't terribly determined too. She listened intently as the whispers evaporated, and she could hear the lock on her door being released. Christine was once again joined by the masked man.

"Christine?"

Silence and dreadful tension filled the room as Erik approached the bed. Each of his steps were evenly paced and announced – almost deliberately- and Christine suppressed a shiver at how cold his voice was.

"I know you are awake, Christine."

"What do you want?" She snapped, a scowl crossing her face.

"I suppose you are… curious as to why you are here."

"You suppose correctly." Christine rolled her eyes as she positioned herself on the edge of the bed, looking directly into Erik's emerald eyes. She saw nothing reflected in them, as they were completely void of any emotion whatsoever.

"You've been given another chance to live, Christine." Erik remained aloof and composed as he studied Christine's reaction.

"What do you…"

Erik shook his head, interjecting her question. "The crash that you and your father were in… your father did die. For that I am sorry." He paused for a short moment. "You were supposed to have died as well. You were close."

"Why didn't I? I should have…" she muttered despondently, more to herself than to her company.

Erik cleared his throat before continuing, "We nursed you back to health."

"Why, how incredibly generous of you."

He pointedly ignored her comment, "For that, you are in debt to us, Christine."

"Us?" She asked, looking towards the large mirror.

"This place you are in, it's called Section One. It is an extremely covert organization, no one but those who are a part of it are aware that you are still alive." He informed her.

Christine stared at him, evidently in disbelief of the information he had just voiced. "You can't be serious…"

"You'll find that I'm not normally one for kidding around."

Christine sighed in defeat, closing her eyes. "What do I have to do to get out of here?"

Shaking his head, Erik stepped closer to her, his gloved hands calmly folded in front of him. "There is no escaping. It is too much of a risk, and for that reason no one is allowed to leave the Section or have any contact with their formal life."

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and she turned away from Erik so he could not see. "I don't want to," she breathed, "I want to go home."

"I'm sorry." Erik then stiffly wheeled around on his heel to make for the door. His hand grasped the handle, but he did not turn it yet. Instead, he looked back to Christine. "Come, Christine, you must be hungry."

"I'm fine," she whispered, blinking back tears.

"Christine,"

"I said I'm fine!" She snapped bitterly at him, finally getting up from the bed.

Erik didn't bother to argue with her. "You'll be meeting with Madame Giry in an hour. I'll be back to retrieve you then."

Christine scowled as he slammed the door closed, and she could hear it being locked from the other side.

_Good God, what am I going to do?

* * *

_

Erik entered the lobby on his way to his office, all his thoughts focused on the beautiful girl he would soon have to train to be a skilled and dangerous operative. He didn't even notice as he passed his long-time rival, the handsome Raoul de Chagny.

"Vachon," Was all the blond man said.

Erik merely nodded, inwardly wincing as Raoul continued. "How is the new material coming along?"

"Fabulously. If you'll excuse me," Erik cleared his throat as he pushed past Raoul and entered the small office provided for him by Greg Thomas, the man who ran and operated Section One. Erik had long ago established himself as a favourite in the eyes of Thomas, effortlessly proving to be one of Section's most efficient and esteemed agents.

He approached the desk and took a seat, turning on his computer. The bright, blue glow from the screen was the only source of light illuminating the room. He barely had a moment to enter in the password before the door swung open and in stalked his mentor, best friend and closest confidante for seven years, Nadir Khan.

"Erik, you son of a bitch!"

"Why, nice to see you too, Nadir." He said dryly, not looking up from the computer screen.

"You went through with it…" Nadir threaded his fingers through his dark hair as awaited Erik's answer.

Erik shrugged. "Of course I did."

The older man stiffened and looked away, annoyed. "And you see nothing wrong with bringing someone such as her into Section?"

Nadir was right. Truth is, he had genuinely thought long and hard about how Christine would cope once trapped inside of Section. He knew it was cruel of him to expose the girl to this kind of life, but in the end his own selfish wants prevailed and he had to have her. He wanted her to be his and his alone, and she very well could be if she could make it through the two year training program that unknowingly awaited her.

"Erik?"

"It's too late now, Nadir. Everyone gets used to this place after being here for a while. Christine will be no exception." Erik didn't seem to notice as his friend pursed his lips in blatant disapproval.

Nadir sighed despondently. "If you believe so, Erik." He said quietly before exiting the room and leaving the masked man alone.

* * *

Christine was humming to herself an old lullaby her father used to sing to her when she was young. There was nothing for her to do while she was locked in the room and so she had little choice but to recall happy memories of the more pleasant times in her life. She recalled the stories her father would always tell her and the beautiful music he would play for her while she sang contentedly along. Her friends were not far from her memory as well, and for a brief moment she wondered if she might see any of them again.

_Goodness, what I wouldn't give to be up_ _North with them again._

Releasing a tiny dejected sigh, she fought to control her tears. Erik would be coming to retrieve her any moment now, and she had no intention of letting him see the crystalline droplets that betrayed her feelings. She could already tell in the short time she had been awake that displaying any evidence of emotion in this place was a sure sign of weakness. Weakness, she knew, would get her no where. If she wanted to escape, she'd have to be strong. She had no other choice.

"Here we go." She whispered to herself, listening to the evenly paced footsteps she came to associate with belonging to Erik.

The door opened and sure enough, a hard-faced Erik entered. He glared at her for a long, tense moment. "Come, Christine, it is time."


	3. Trapped

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N: **Wow, thanks to everyone for the sweet reviews, they're all awesome! Just to answer a few questions, when Christine referred to heading North with her friends, she meant on recreation trips/holidays, she didn't live there. I hope that clears things up! And yes, Madame Giry will be the Madeline character (albeit a much less ruthless one), so kudos to montaquecat for catching onto that. Lastly, there's a website on my profile which shows the overall appearance/feel of Section in case anyone who hasn't seen Nikita was wondering. If anyone else would like a summary of La Femme Nikita, please free to contact me with your questions, my e-mail is on my profile as well. I'll be very happy to answer them! I also still need a beta if anyone's interested. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review, thanks!

* * *

"So, this is Section One," Christine murmured vacantly as she casually followed Erik while he led her through a seemingly unending corridor towards Giry's office. She looked around as they entered a large, spacious hub. "This doesn't even look real." She whispered incredulously. As they crossed the hub, Christine tried to catch the faces of some of the others who were working at their designated stations. For a short moment, she believed she recognized one of the men, but quickly shook and discarded that thought. There couldn't be a large chance she would know anyone here.

Erik said nothing as they hurriedly crossed the hub and entered yet another hallway. His silence was causing Christine to feel quite uncomfortable, and she spoke up again in an attempt to make conversation, "How long have you been here for, Erik?"

"Too long." He muttered sardonically.

_Apparently you're not one for small-talk, either. _

After pausing in front of an automatic sliding door, Erik touched Christine's elbow to urge her inside, but was taken for surprise when she briskly jerked her arm away from his touch. Green eyes met blue ones as they both glared at one another defiantly, but it was Christine who turned away to enter Madame Giry's office. Erik did not join her, merely telling her to take a seat before leaving her alone.

Christine released a deep breath she was not aware she was holding as Erik left. Choosing to deliberately ignore his orders, she wondered around the small room and gazed over the neatly-cemented walls (which seemed to be common in this complex) and the oddly out-of-place decor. There was a delicate tea set on the table, and unlike many of the other rooms she had been in, this one housed many different kinds of plants. How they were kept alive without sunlight was beyond her.

"Hello, Christine."

Christine turned to see a middle aged woman in black staring back at her. The woman approached the desk, gesturing towards the chair. "Please, sit."

This time, Christine did as she was told. She crossed her legs and leaned back in an attempt to not appear as intimidated as she truly was. Was everyone here so deliberately frigid and intimidating?

Madame Giry sat down on the other side of the table, pouring them both a cup of tea. "How are you doing?" She asked, not looking up at the blonde woman across from her.

"How am I?" Christine chuckled weakly, "How can you even ask me that?" Finishing tiredly, she took the offered cup.

"I know that the past few hours have been emotionally draining for you."

"I'll say." Christine retorted, trying her best to block all thoughts of her late father from entering her mind.

"If you need to take a few days to rest before beginning your training here, it can be arranged." The older woman offered sympathetically, harboring suspicion from the younger woman.

"You mean, I could leave here for –"

"No, I'm afraid you would still have to remain in Section."

A downhearted sigh escaped Christine's lips while she leaned back into the chair. "Never mind then."

"Very well. Shall we get down to business then, Christine?"

"Please."

"As Erik already informed you, you are in Section One…"

Christine shook her head, interjecting her. "And if I don't want to?"

"We'll discuss that in a moment."

"No," while she knew her blatant defiance would get her no where, she had no intention of tip-toeing around the subject. She wanted to know- she had the right to know- and she wanted to know now. "We'll discuss that right now."

Madame Giry nodded, seemingly unresponsive to Christine's stubborn demeanor. She cleared her throat as she pulled a large, black object from her jacket pocket and placed it gingerly upon the glass table. Giry watched in absolute silence as Christine's face seemed to pale dramatically right before her eyes. "Fill in the blanks for yourself, Christine."

* * *

Christine could not pry her eyes from the 9mm that lay inches away from her. She gripped the handles of the chair tightly before looking back up at Madame Giry, who was the first to speak.

"All you have to do is obey, Christine."

"What… what will I be doing?" The shaking girl questioned nervously.

Seeing the distress the weapon was causing Christine, Giry hid it from her sight again. "This is an incredibly covert- and efficient- spy organization. We capture the criminals no one else can. It is similar to the military or police force, we protect the innocent. I can assure you our ends are just."

"And the means?"

Madame Giry paused to think of a way to word what she had to impart next. "We are not hesitant to be ruthless if the circumstances require it."

"Will I have to… will I have to k- kill?" Christine had to ask, but was not sure she was prepared to know the answer.

Offering a sad smile, Madame Giry gave the slightest of nods.

Christine shook her head, tears of shock lining her blue eyes. "I can't do that." Her words were barely above a whisper.

"No, you can't Christine. But you will be trained to."

"How long for?" Her eyes rose to the ceiling in helplessness.

"Two years."

"Two years." Christine repeated despondently.

"At the end of this period, Erik will accompany you on your first mission. Should you be successful, then you will be promoted to full status."

"Meaning?" Her voice was flat and numb.

"You'll be working with a team out in the field. Most likely undercover. You'll also be able to leave the Section when you're not working."

Christine furrowed her brow in confusion, "I thought no one left Section…"

"Think of it as a job; once you're full status, you live on the outside but you commute back to it everyday to work."

Breathing through clenched teeth, Christine rested her head in her hands.

"Do you have any other questions or concerns?"

"Why me?" She hissed, choosing not to look back up at the older woman.

"You're a very beautiful young lady, Christine. We've been watching you long enough to know that you are capable of getting what you want. We believe that your femininity will prove to be a valuable asset for Section One. It will be your most powerful weapon." Madame Giry told the girl, much like a mother speaks to her child.

"Is that it?"

"There are other reasons, yes, but you do not need to know them."

"Oh?"

"No. Not yet."

Folding her arms against her chest, Christine inhaled sharply as Giry continued. "Erik Vachon will be your supervisor. You will go to him for any help and advice you may require. Consider yourself lucky, the success rates of his operatives are very high. You are in good hands."

"That makes me feel so much better." Christine snapped, the sarcasm clearly evident in her tone. She rose to her feet to make for the door.

"One more thing, Christine."

"Yes, Madame Giry?" She whirled around on her heel to face the other woman.

"You may call me Antoinette," Antoinette rose to her feet to approach Christine. She procured a vial from her other pocket and passed it gingerly to the new trainee. "There's one more option for you."

"What's this?" Christine asked, inspecting the dark liquid.

"It's a limbic suppressor."

"And what does that mean?"

"It will suppress your long term, and short term memory." Antoinette told her, very matter-of-factly.

"What would I want to do that for?" Christine asked bitterly.

"If you are completely against the idea of working for Section One, all you have to do is take that, and we will release you. Unfortunately, you would not be returning to your former life. It would raise too many suspicions."

"You mean start my entire life from scratch?"

"Precisely." She stated simply.

"All I have left is my memories." Christine said, maintaining eye contact with Antoinette as she placed the vial onto the table. "I'll stay."

With those words she turned on her heel and marched out of the office. Fleeing back to the room her nightmare began in, Christine swung the door open with more strength than she was aware she possessed. She did not wait for the door to shut completely before screaming out her frustrations to the white stucco walls. Taking notice of a glass pitcher perched on a tray that must have been placed there during her absence, she grasped it in both hands and propelled it with all the power she had against a wall. "No!" She cried while collapsing on the bed and letting her pillow swallow all of her tears.

_I don't want to do this! I can't do this! It's not fair!

* * *

_

Erik and Nadir looked up at the same time to notice Christine stalking in a hurry across the hub, seemingly making her way back to her room. Erik nodded towards his friend before following the girl in his usual calm and steady strides. Instead of trying to talk with her, he entered the observation room, turning on the light only dimly. Erik watched as her water pitcher collided with the wall and shattered into dozens of pieces. He swore his heart stopped for a fraction of a moment as she burst out in tears. Placing his head in his hands, he cursed himself for his role in bringing her into Section.

_I've ruined her: she will never be the same. Section will tarnish her innocence forever. Why did I being her here? Why did I need her? My God, what have I done? What have I done…?_


	4. Training

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N: **I actually wasn't going to include this chapter, but then I decided against it. Some LFN terminology: the Directory is an index of all operatives, their personal information and so on. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Anyway, here we go! There's a wee bit of E/C fluff here too. Happy Tuesday!

* * *

_Two months until Christine's evaluation_

Christine was having a difficult time keeping up with her exercises. Erik had been pushing her harder than usual lately, getting incredibly irritable when she couldn't meet his standards. In truth he was never terribly encouraging, and this only succeeded in causing her to feel like some teenage delinquent.

"Behind you, Daaé!" He yelled across the circular room at her.

"What…?" It was too late, as one of the laser beams hit her from behind, causing her to fall to her knees for a short moment. Christine shot at the holographic image, and it faded as another popped up. She whirled around to catch this one in time.

"Faster, Daaé." Erik ordered more calmly this time, watching as Christine took out several more consecutive targets. As the sequence got more difficult and the girl took more shots, her performance was declining rapidly.

"It hurts!" She screamed at him.

Erik rolled his eyes. "Suck it up, princess!" He continued to watch her, but she was not improving her performance.

"Christine…" Erik walked towards her, gesturing for the man in the monitoring room to pause. He took off his black jacket, handing it Christine while taking the laser gun and censor from her. He placed the censor on himself and after un-tucking his dress shirt he motioned for the man to begin the sequence again. "Stand back for a moment, Christine." He ordered while calmly waiting for the sequence to begin.

Christine watched as Erik executed the routine with graceful flawlessness, quickly and effortlessly recovering from any shots he had taken.

_Almost too graceful. Okay, yes Erik, I get it, you're good and everyone else stinks. Rub it in, why don't you._

"Sequence Completed." Said a male voice she wasn't unfamiliar with.

Erik walked back to her slowly. "Christine, eventually, when you're out in the field, you're going to get shot," he began, his tone soft and quiet. "It happens."

"I don't want to get shot…" Christine whined, suppressing a sniffle.

"You're in good company. But it's what you do after the fact that matters the most." He looked her over. "Now go, get cleaned up, we'll try again later."

* * *

Christine stepped out of the cold shower, wrapping a towel snuggly around her slim body. After ringing the excess water out of her golden locks she wrapped another around her hair. She slipped into the bathroom of the dormitory that housed the other female – and much to Christine's dismay, male recruitments. 

After clothing herself in a black, long sleeved turtle neck and jeans, she ventured over to a 19-yr-old boy who she had befriended during her time at Section. His name was Lucas van Zandt, and should he succeed at his own two-year-review, he'd be one of the new communication specialists. "Hey Luc," she sighed, pushing his feet off of the mattress so she could sit.

"Oh, hi Christine." He looked up from the laptop computer he was working on for a moment.

"What are you doing?" She found herself to be genuinely interested.

"I'm trying to get into the recruit Directory."

"Still?"

Lucas shot her a menacing look through slanted eyes. "I can do it."

"You know how much trouble you'll be in if they find out?"

"Big if. They won't find out. Their systems consoles are oblivious to my activities." He assured her, but noticed as she seemed to appear rather glum. "Okay. Why so blue?"

"I'm not blue, I'm peach or something."

"Come on, talk to me." Lucas closed the laptop, tucking it securely under the mattress.

"Have you ever thought about how you'd be living if you were on the outside?"

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Not this again…"

"I'm serious! Do you?"

"I guess so, but we all do." He paused, "How is training with Erik coming along lately? I heard he's being tougher on you."

"Yeah, he is. 'Faster, Christine- Harder, Christine- Quicker Christine- '" Finishing up her imitation of her pushy supervisor, she continued, "That's all I ever hear. Never a 'Good work Christine' or a 'Keep it up'." She sighed heartbrokenly. "Although, it may have something to do with me almost socking him two weeks ago."

"You did what?"

"Well, I didn't, he blocked it but I think he took it personally. Anyway, I got to go talk to Nadir for a second, catch you later van Zandt."

"Bye Christine."

* * *

Christine was hurriedly exiting the dormitories as she collided into Erik's tall form. He was unfazed however, and he steadied her gently. 

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"Uh, nowhere really." Smiling politely, she patiently awaited whatever he was to tell her next. Was he going to instruct her to prepare for yet another training session, or perhaps a lecture on the importance of training sessions?

"Would you like to go for coffee?"

_No, was definitely not expecting that one. _

"C-coffee?" Christine repeated, positively surprised that he would suggest spending any purely social time with her, especially outside of Section. "Uh… why?"

Erik shrugged. "I need a reason to treat you to coffee?"

"Oh, I suppose not... are we leaving Section?" Christine watched incredulously as a smirk marked Erik's face and he nodded.

"For a bit, though I have every intention of bringing you back."

"Of course."

* * *

"You know Erik, I wasn't expecting the States." She told him. She never really knew until now what country Section was located in, all she knew was that it was located underground. Somewhere. 

"What were you expecting?" He asked her, appearing to be genuinely interested.

"France." She said simply. "Most of the operatives have French surnames."

"That is because it used to be in France. Certain… dire circumstances forced us to relocate." He said plainly.

"Ah I see now," she nodded.

Christine walked alongside Erik as they made their way down a busy street, coffee in hand. She glad to be outside again, it had been almost two years since she'd been in public. Though she would not admit it, she did feel a little odd; out of place even. She was nothing but a name on a tombstone to these people; it felt strange to be walking among them.

_Them; the normal people._

Erik seemed to suspect this and spoke up, "It is odd the first time, isn't it?"

Christine was pulled from her thoughts. "Yes." She whispered. Glancing up at her mentor, a frown graced her face. "Erik, how did you get to be here?"

"It's a long story, Christine."

"We have time."

Erik shook his head sadly. "I can't tell you that, Christine. At least not yet."

_Ah, full of secrets, that man is. I wonder how many years will pass before I get an answer._

"Okay." She complied, looking away from the masked man beside her. "Well, could you at least tell me how long you've been in Section?"

"This will be my twelfth year."

"Twelve years… you must have been young when you were taken in, no?" Christine asked innocently.

"Yes, Christine, I was young." She noticed how he seemed to stiffen and become more withdrawn within a matter of moments since her questioning. She turned to face him directly. As she opened her mouth to speak, Erik pressed his gloved finger against her lips. "No more questions, Christine."

She felt herself flush at the contact, but quickly decided to ignore it. She tried to suppress a shiver, but it did not go unnoticed by Erik. He furrowed his visible brow in confusion. "Are you cold, Christine?"

"No, no I'm not." She said, smiling to reassure him. He nodded and they continued for a short while, making small-talk until Erik mentioned that they should be getting back to Section soon. Christine merely nodded, more disappointed that her time with her mentor was cut short than having to return. He was different outside of Section, she noticed. She could tell very easily that he was uncomfortable in this environment, and she strongly suspected it had something to do with what he was hiding underneath that mask.

_Hmm, I wonder what he is hiding. I've been so concerned with myself and my training, I've never bothered to ask him about it. Should I? Perhaps I should wait for him to bring it up, since he was so evasive of my other questions._

As they reached Erik's car, Christine placed her hand on his arm to stop him from getting in. "Erik," she started, "I just wanted to thank you for taking me out tonight. It was the nicest thing you've done for me, I – I had a good time." She smiled kindly at him before choosing to press a quick peck onto his exposed cheek.

* * *

Raoul watched as Erik and his young pupil left Section grounds. He had seen the girl a few times before and there was something vaguely familiar about her. He turned to Nadir, who was busy working at his own station rather diligently. 

"Nadir?"

Nadir raised his eyes to the younger man. "What is it, Raoul?"

Before speaking, Raoul took a drink of his coffee. "The girl Erik's training… what is her name?"

"Christine Daaé. She's a good girl, hard worker. Well, most of the time." Nadir said before setting back to his work.

_Christine Daaé. Oh, God. Why is she __**here?**_

Nearly dropping his cup, Raoul stormed off in a hurry. He suddenly felt very faint.


	5. Briefing

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N:**. I changed my name before I got too far into writing. The last one was kinda depressing, so I hope no one was too confused! This was actually going to be chapter four, but then I decided to stick in the last one. Operations is himself (he's the one in charge), and he's introduced here. Yep. I enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy it too! And please, if you could leave me a review, that would be amazing. And, I found out how to use the review reply button, so I'm going to start doing that too aha. I know that there are lots more who are reading, so even if you don't like it, you can even just say hi! Anyway, Happy Friday!

* * *

_Two months later…_

Christine sat at the computer terminal with her friend and fellow trainee, Lucas. Both their eyes were glued to the screen in front of them; neither saying a word as Lucas typed miscellaneous variables into the machine.

"I think I got it…" the boy whispered so only Christine could hear.

"No way… Lucas…"

"What?"

"We'll get our asses kicked for this. Or even cancelled."

Lucas just scowled while shaking his head. "They won't find out. I'm pro." He informed her. "Almost there."

_Access Denied._

"Ouch." Christine chuckled lightly, glancing over at the defeated face of her colleague. "I could probably have done it." She joked.

"You could not! You're just a fielder." Lucas tried to catch her hands as she playfully slapped him.

"I could too! Bring something up, I'll crack it."

"You could not!" He glared at Christine in awe, laughing at the challenging look she was giving him. "You… _you…_ could crack a code?"

"Sure could." She assured him, though the boy did not look convinced. "What?"

"Here, crack this. Ten seconds." He pulled up a group of letters and numbers, rolling his chair to the side so she could be in front of the console.

"Fine."

"Ahem." Lucas and Christine both looked up at the same time to see Erik standing over them.

"Morning Erik." Christine said, diverting her attention back to the screen in front of her.

"So, you believe you're skilled enough to crack that code?"

Christine looked at Erik, waving her hand as if the task was child's play. "Sure am." She replied haughtily. Erik looked curious.

"Show me."

"Yeah," Lucas interjected, pulling up a timer on the computer. "Ten seconds." The moment after he had done so, Christine had taken him roughly by the collar, and had driven a pen dangerously close to his neck.

"Do it." She roared, in a voice that did not sound like her own.

Lucas looked up to Erik, who seemed to be amused. The masked man cocked one visible eyebrow. The boy typed in the necessary variables and pressed the enter key. The numbers "00:09" appeared on the screen in a bold red. He looked over to Christine, who looked positively pleased with herself.

"See, Erik?" She looked up to her supervisor, a grin marking her delicate face. "I did it in nine!"

Erik smiled. It was such a simple gesture really, but few people ever witnessed one upon Erik Vachon's face. Christine found herself delighted that she was the one who caused it. A moment later it vanished as Erik seemed to catch himself. "Christine," he began, "There's a briefing in fifteen minutes."

Christine gasped, her blue eyes widening in shock. "What?"

"A briefing. Don't be late." With that, Erik left the two. Lucas looked to his colleague in shock.

"Your two-year review is today?"

Stumbling on her words, Christine didn't quite know what to say. "I don't… I don't know… I guess… Oh, God… Luc, I didn't know it was today… Oh, no…"

"Calm down, maybe you'll have time to study the missions profile before you leave…" He tried to comfort her, to reassure her, but it didn't seem to be working. "Didn't Erik tell you that your two-year review was today?"

Christine held back a sniffle. "He said it was soon… but that was like, a month or two ago."

Lucas sighed. Even though Christine had undergone two years training, it was evident that she still wasn't as independent as she should be by now. There was no hand-feeding in Section. "You're just going to have to pay really close attention at the briefing."

Christine nodded stiffly, getting up from her seat. Lucas' voice called out, causing her to turn around. "Take care of yourself out there, Christine. Good luck."

"Thanks." She said, flashing him a sad smile before leaving.

* * *

"This is Edward Gilmore: he's a very dangerous upper class member of one of Section's rival corporations, calling themselves the 'Black Plague'," A tall, deep-voiced man Christine only knew as 'Operations' gave a sardonic chuckle before continuing, "We haven't, until now, been able to locate him. It seems that he has resurfaced, and has in his possession a disk. You don't need to know about its contents, just retrieve it by any means necessary."

Christine, Erik, Nadir, and two other operatives unfamiliar to her sat at a long table underneath the perch as Operations instructed them on their mission. Christine was studying the images displayed before her, trying not to show her nerves so openly in front of the seemingly unfeeling group. As the man finished up his instructions and ordered for the group to be ready in a half an hour, Erik approached her.

"Are you ready, Christine?" He asked softly.

Christine sighed, not quite sure how she should answer. "Do I really have a choice?"

Erik said nothing to her before he walked away.

* * *

Christine was applying final touches to her appearance minutes before they had to leave. Gilmore would be at a theatre tonight where Christine would execute the mission, and so she was provided with a beautiful black gown from Antoinette. She had already been to munitions to retrieve a weapon, and was just about to join Erik and the others when she heard a vaguely familiar voice call her name. She turned to see a handsome young man approach her.

_Raoul? No, it can't be…_

"Christine!"

_Oh, God, it is…_

"Raoul?" she asked, just to be sure.

"Yes." The boy smiled, pulling Christine into a warm embrace. "It is good to see you again, Little Lotte. You look amazing."

Christine was at a loss for words, she could not believe this was dear, sweet Raoul standing before her now. "Raoul… you, thank you." As they pulled out of the embrace simultaneously, Christine continued to stare at the blond.

"Raoul, I thought you were…" She caught herself, gasping as her hand flew over her mouth. He seemed to know what she was going to say.

"You thought I was dead?" He said, smiling sadly. Christine nodded.

A third voice sounded from up the hall, and both Christine and Raoul turned to see an angry and impatient Erik. "Christine, we must leave **now.**"

The girl looked back towards Raoul, smiling apologetically. He wished her good luck before she stalked over to Erik, glaring at him before they both entered into the van.

_Here we go…

* * *

_

_Sorry, I apologize for this chapter being short. Anyway, I tried to make this chapter kind of reflective of the Raoul/Christine where they first see each other again, and there's also a LFN scene. Next chapter will be the first mission and a little something else aha. It'll probably be up either today or Monday. I hope people are still liking this story, so please, please review or send me a PM. Have a good weekend._


	6. Mission, Part One

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N:**. Okay, so maybe this didn't come as soon as I thought it would. Its part one of the first mission, and the second will be out soon. I hope you all enjoy it anyway, and thanks much for the reviews! And here's the character list that was asked for, I hope it helps.

**Story**-Show

**Erik- **Michael Samuelle.

**Christine- **Nikita.

**Raoul- **I didn't really base him off of anyone. The closest I can think of would probably be Jurgon, but Raoul's going to have a much larger role.

**Madame Giry**- A much-less ruthless Madeline.

**Nadir- **Combination of Walter and Birkoff. He's going to have Birkoff's job though.

**Lucas- **He's very similar to Seymour Birkoff, only Lucas is not full status.

**Operations- **he's going to be the same, only I've given him a different name.

Oh, by the way, it appears as if the story alerts aren't working anymore. So, until they start again, what I can do is manually e-mail alerts when I update. If you would like to be alerted to updates for this story while the system is down, either leave a review with your email address, or e-mail/PM me.

* * *

Christine was intently studying the handheld panel Erik had provided for her. The mission would be in play soon, and with each passing moment Christine found herself becoming more and more agitated. She pulled up the target's profile on the panel, frowning at the updated pieces of information Operations had failed to mention.

"Erik… did you know about the women?" She asked, gasping as she read further. This man, her target, was nothing short of a monster. Christine looked up towards Erik, but he said nothing. "Erik, why isn't section helping them?"

Again, Erik did not speak or even acknowledge her concerns.

Christine made a visible effort to swallow down her accumulating rage over Erik's silence. "He's a butcher!" She hissed at her supervisor.

Erik finally spoke up, "Focus on the mission, Christine. He's going to be dead by the end of the night anyway." He told her quietly between clenched teeth, the annoyance clearly written across his features.

"And what about after that? Where is he keeping the girls?"

"That is not our concern."

"What?!?" she spat bitterly, her hands balled up in tiny fists. She could not believe what Erik was telling her. She couldn't believe that the Section, who claims to oh-so-valiantly protect the innocent, would just abandon the countless victims of Edward Gilmore. Christine could feel the bile rise in her throat: in mere minutes she would be risking her own life to retrieve some stupid disk that Operations wanted, yet she was not permitted to help free dozens of women that were raped and tortured by this monster of a man. And to her, the Section was just as responsible for knowing this was happening and doing nothing about it.

"Just do what the profile lists, Christine." Erik said tiredly.

Christine opened her mouth to argue, but was distracted by the pleading look she was receiving from Nadir. "We'll talk about it later, Christine." He said in an attempt to calm the girl. Christine nodded, leaning back into the seat. She did not seem to notice Nadir whisper something to Erik.

The rest of the drive was silent: neither of the men bothering to speak as Christine hastily studied the profile. It seemed to be no time until they arrived at their destination. Erik leaned over, attaching a beautiful and elegant pin to the strap of her black dress.

"What is that?" She asked, but sounded uninterested.

"It's a video camera, and a tracker. We'll be able to know your location at all times." Erik told her quietly.

"Right."

Erik passed her a pair of expensive diamond earrings, garnering a questioning look from the girl. "Put them on, in them a communication device is installed. I'd recommend you keep them in at all times." Christine nodded, obediently donning the earrings. She got up and walked the short distance to the van door. Just before her hand grasped the handle, Christine heard Erik call out her name.

She turned around slowly and watched as Erik's face seemed to soften. "Good luck." Christine only nodded as she left the van and approached the theatre, wondering if that was the last time she'd ever see Erik again.

* * *

_Well, at least it's a nice change of scenery._

Christine looked around the elegant lobby of the theatre. It was beautiful, elegant and elaborate, the complete opposite of the dark, uniformed environment she had become so accustomed to. She gingerly gathered the fabric at the front of her dress, holding it in one hand as she ascended the large staircase that would lead to the boxes. Passing the ticket Erik had given her over to the ticket holder, Christine found herself making a visible effort to ignore the perverted looks she was receiving from the man.

After a mumbled 'thank you', Christine made her way past her own box, glancing over her shoulder to ensure no one else was watching. "What box is Gilmore in, Erik?" She whispered as quietly as she could. Erik's voice rang close to her ear, instructing her towards a box not far from her own. She took a moment to catch her breath before entering the box and putting on her carefully planned act.

Christine gasped as she saw Gilmore, a pretty blonde woman, and two other men glare back at her. "Oh, I'm very sorry. I must have got the wrong box, I'm very sorry." She looked towards her target, putting on her best apologetic and charming smile. If Christine didn't know how cruel he was, of how ugly his soul truly was, she would have thought the man attractive. But she wasn't ignorant, and the very sight of him made her want to hurl. She apologized again, before gracefully exiting. As she walked back to her box, she hoped Erik's assumption that he would follow her was true. And it was.

Christine smirked as she was called back by Gilmore himself. She turned around on her heel, greeting the man with a warm, charming and equally dishonest smile. He approached her, looking over her slender body. His steady, judging gaze made Christine feel uncomfortable, but she hid it well. "I'm truly sorry."

"Nonsense. It could have happened to anybody…" he lifted Christine's hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it. Christine swallowed down her disgust, again plastering a false grin across her face.

_I wonder if this is how you lure all your victims, Mr. Gilmore._

"Why don't you watch the show with us, Miss…"

"Da- Daniels," she caught herself quickly, "Christine Daniels. And, I couldn't, I've already bought my ticket."

"We have plenty of room, my dear." He said, shooting her a look that would have made any other woman weak in the knees.

"Oh, well, thank you."

"Nothing of it," Gilmore said, securing an arm around her waist as he lead her back to his box. As they re-entered, Christine immediately noticed that the woman who was there before was now gone. She questioned it.

"Where is the woman that was here?"

Gilmore looked towards the new blonde. "She's not feeling very well."

Christine only nodded, though she knew that probably wasn't the whole story. She was not about to let Gilmore get away with yet another victim. She rose to her feet. "I have to visit the ladies room before the show starts, I'll be right back." Christine told him, rolling her eyes as she turned away.

The moment she left the box she heard Erik's voice through the device. "Do not break position, Christine."

"Erik, I have to save the girl, I can't let them just torture her for the hell of it." She hissed back.

"Christine, get back now."

"No."

"I said now, Christine."

"I heard what you said, Erik. I said no."

* * *

Erik ripped his ear piece away, releasing a frustrated growl at his material's disobedience. He got up from the seat and made towards the van door.

"Where are you going, Erik?" Nadir asked from behind the van's computer terminal.

"To get that girl back on track." The masked man hissed.

"Erik, you know you're not supposed to interfere on the material's two-year-reviews." Nadir warned his friend.

"I know. But if I don't she'll be cancelled anyway." He sighed, jumping out of the van and slamming the door closed. He made his way through the theatre in his search for Christine. It wasn't long until he found her, but she decided to make a dash for it. Erik followed her up a flight of stairs until reaching a corridor. He calmly opened the unlocked doors as he went by, but found them all to be empty. "Christine, I'm not in the mood for games," he called out.

He was genuinely taken for surprise as he found himself ambushed by Christine, but even the element of surprise on her part wasn't nearly enough to subdue him. The tables were turned almost instantly, and before Christine knew it, she was pinned against the wall. Erik wrestled the gun from her grip, letting it fall to the ground. He caught her wrist in a tight, steely grip and watched as she whimpered from the pressure. "Are you trying to get yourself cancelled?" He asked the struggling woman, holding onto her almost effortlessly.

"He's going to hurt her, Erik. I can't let that happen!"

"It's none of your business!"

"None of my business?!? How can you say that? I thought we were supposed to protect the innocent!"

"She's collateral, Christine." He said, releasing her.

"Collateral." She repeated, positively disgusted. "I can't live with that."

"You have no other choice."

"Yes, I do." Christine closed her eyes as she picked up her weapon from the floor, giving it to her supervisor tiredly. "Cancel me."

"Christine…" he began to plead.

"I mean it, Erik!" She screamed at him.

"No, you don't. You're wasting both of our time. Give it up." He passed the gun back to her. "I'll get the girl, you focus on the mission."

Christine was shocked. She was shocked not only by his coldness and the malice evident in his tone but by his offer to help the woman.

"Promise?"

"Yes."

Christine nodded absentmindedly as she put her gun away, gathered the fabrics of her dress and headed back to Gilmore's box.


	7. Mission, Part Two

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N:**. Aha, here's the rest of the mission, so I hope you all enjoy. I was thinking of writing in one more (E/C fluff-filled) mission – the calm before the storm I suppose heh. I wasn't going to add this in, but the missions are fun to write. If people want to see it, I'll plug it in, so please tell me in the reviews or in a pm! I'm sorry for the wait, I was up snowmobiling all weekend, but the trails were bad so we left early. Anyway, this one's a little longer than usual, aha. So, if you like, please leave a review, it might inspire me to post faster hint hint nudge nudge It's kind of frustrating to know that there's plenty of people reading but few responding, but thank you to those that do! I hope everyone has a wonderful march break. Again, please let me know if you want the mission or no!

* * *

"So, what do you say Christine? We'll head back to my hotel room- retire for the night." Gilmore said after the show was over, wrapping an arm around her waist. He pulled her body close to his own. Christine played along, despite how much she already hated the man.

"Sounds fantastic." She said, forcing a bright smile. Christine tried not to gag as his lips pressed playfully against her own. He led her outside to his limousine, opening the door for her like gentleman he pretended to be. Christine glanced towards the Section van parked at the other end of the lot, wondering for a short moment if Erik had found the girl as he said he would. She shook off the thought, and delicately climbed in.

_Like a lamb_ _to the slaughter._

Gilmore got in after her and his men after that. He must have assumed Christine had forgotten about the woman, and she mentioned nothing of it. "Champagne?"

"Please." There was a moment of silence as Gilmore poured her drink, and she could feel his guard's judging eyes on her. "What's with the heavy artillery?" She asked him, gesturing towards the two.

Gilmore winked at her, "I'm a very important man, Miss Daniels."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." The two became silent for a few moments before Christine could feel the man's wandering hands roam her folded legs. She sharply inhaled as his hands slipped beneath the folds of her dress, but it was a reaction that Gilmore perceived as pleasure. He couldn't have been further from the truth.

* * *

Gilmore held the door open for Christine as the entered the large and extravagant hotel room.

_Welcome to my parlour, said the lion to its prey._

Much to Christine's delight, his guards had been dismissed. Or were otherwise preoccupied, but either away it would allow her escape to run more smoothly.

"Are you from around here, Christine?" he asked, his back turned from her.

Christine walked over to the large bed, smoothing over the comforter as she spoke, "You could say that."

"So, what's a pretty girl like you doing at the theatre all by your onesome?"

Sitting down, Christine appeared to be pondering her answer. His back was still turned, and she had just enough time to slip her silencer under one of the feather pillows. "I enjoy it. My boyfriend isn't a fan of musical theatre." When he turned back around, Christine immediately noticed how he had untied his tie and his shirt was now open.

_If you think I'm going to sleep with you, you have another thing coming, pal._

Christine let him take her coat, and she watched him as he set it down on the loveseat. "Ah, I should have known you were taken," he whispered, although it didn't stop him from placing his hands firmly upon her hips. Despite her inner qualms, she flashed him a seductive smirk, encouraging the man to continue his caressing. Christine fought the bile that was rising in her throat as his lips seized her own possessively. A fabricated little moan of pleasure escaped from her lips as he pressed further.

It was then that a faint cry sounded from her communicator.

_Oh God, Erik…I had forgotten you were there…_

She could detect the hurt and the pain that was so evident in that one tiny gasp. In her two years of training, of seeing and interacting with this man on a daily basis, she had rarely witnessed such a vulnerable emotion from him. Most of the time he was cold and aloof, and in hearing his cries she was taken entirely by surprise. Could it be that after all this time, he was still able to open up emotionally? Christine wasn't sure: she supposed she could have imagined it. Although, deep down inside she genuinely wanted to believe it was real.

"What are you waiting for, Christine?" Erik's voice hissed in her ear. Christine gasped, realizing that she had lost valuable moments in her thoughts. She felt the ties being loosened on her dress, and the operative once again snapped into play mode.

"No, this is too fast," she whimpered, trying to draw Gilmore's resistant hands from the delicate fabric. He persisted.

She began to struggle, putting up the fight she knew all too well he craved. He managed only to tear her dress, and she had to battle against her own instincts to use force to protect herself. Christine had to let him be convinced that she was just another helpless girl that was soon to be his latest victim.

_Two years ago, I would have been. But not now._

They continued to struggle, Christine allowing him to overpower her until he believed he had won. It was only when he pinned her to the bed and whispered profanities into her ear did she choose to fully retaliate. In one swift move, her knee connected solidly with his groin and he yelped painfully before hitting the ground.

Christine said nothing as she pulled herself away from the bed, putting on her coat frigidly as she finally noticed he had ripped her dress apart and left her in her lace undergarments. When she looked back towards her target, she released a sigh of exaggerated frustration. "Get up." She hissed.

When he did not comply, she chose to deliver yet another blow. A stiletto-clad foot connected roughly to his midsection, eliciting a strangled moan from the man. "I said get up." She told him, more harshly this time.

Gilmore struggled to his feet, and Christine came to the conclusion that he was not nearly as intimidating as he would have liked to be. He was a weak man, and it was all talk. He preyed on helpless people, and Christine hated him all the more for it.

It took him a moment to regain any dignity he had left and much to Christine's pleasure, that wasn't much. "You're Section One."

She only nodded, looking around for the disk she had been ordered to retrieve. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"You're not getting it," He told her in a hoarse, almost pained whisper. Christine figured he must have been well aware of what Section sent her for.

"Well, you can do things my way, or theirs. It's your choice."

A menacing laugh sounded from Gilmore, and although she tried not to show it, it sent unmistakable shivers up her spine. "I suppose- you're going to tell me that your way is much more... more merciful," he coughed the sentence out, but still managed to intimidate her nonetheless.

In a move that was more of a reflex then conscious thought, she wheeled around, delivering a solid punch to his nose before he even had the time to think. She raced around the bed, retrieving the silencer she had placed under the pillow not long ago. Putting on the hardest face she could muster, she turned around, leveling her gun up to line with Gilmore's head. "Where is it?" She demanded, but was only met with silence. "Don't make me shoot!" Christine aimed for the knee this time, as if to prove her point.

"Okay! Fine!" he finally gave up; making it painfully obvious he wasn't big on suffering, at least not with himself on the receiving end. Of course, it was all fun and games for him when he was afflicting it upon somebody else. Christine impatiently awaited his answer.

"It's in the night stand, first drawer," he coughed, "in a jewelry box."

Christine nodded, backing towards the nightstand although she did not take her eyes off of the bleeding man before her. With one hand she clumsily opened the drawer, taking out the box and setting it down on the bed. "It's locked." She concluded after a moment of examining it.

"The key is in my jacket pocket." He wiped the blood from his nose.

"Get it." She hissed, pleased that her voice did not waver despite the nervousness that she was feeling. After he acquired it, Christine ordered him to open the box, and she searched herself for the disk.

_Gotcha. Task one down, just one more…_

Christine turned towards her target, her gun shaking in her hand as she raised it once more. She watched him cower, and plead for his life as he seemed to know as well what she was to do next.

"That… that shows you what kind of man you are…" Her words were strong but her tone betrayed the dread and fear that was washing over her.

_How can I do this…oh, God, I can't! I can't kill! I should want to do this, he is nothing but trash but I can't! But if I don't…it doesn't matter, I'm not going to last long in this world, I can't, I would rather be dead! I'd rather be with my father! Anything is preferable to this, I can't do it… _

A single crystalline tear fell from the corner of her eye. A strangled sob escaped from her lips as she began to lower the weapon…

* * *

As if in response, the door swung open, and a turbulent Erik stormed in. In one simple move he snatched her weapon from her, and pushed her violently towards the door. "Get out." He growled, and Christine could do nothing but comply.

When she closed the door, she could hear the faint sounds of a body falling to the ground, and although she did not want to, she knew that Erik had killed him for her. She felt as if she was going to be sick: Erik- _her_ Erik had killed! Well, she knew that he had done so before, no one got as high up in Section One without committing murder. But it was different now, now it was real. Christine was confused and hurt and afraid. Afraid of Erik, of Section One, and of what they both were capable of. Of all the training Erik had taken her through, nothing had prepared her for this, and a part of her hated him for it. She had respected and admired her supervisor, even if he was cold and often emotionless he was still really the only one who had always been there for her since her father died. He had pushed her to her limits in order to become a better operative, and he seemingly went out of his way one too many times for _her_ alone although she did not yet know why. But for that she was grateful, she literally wouldn't have survived this long without Erik.

_But he killed. He killed for me, how can I admire a cold-blooded killer? It wasn't fair, if only we had met somewhere else- anywhere else would have been preferable to this hell we've both been sentenced to. I wish it could have been different._

A warm hand pressed against her back, causing her to jump slightly. She looked back, seeing it was Erik who was pushing her forward. "Come, we have thirty seconds."

Christine only nodded, allowing him to lead her back to the van. As they reached the cold night air, she wrapped her coat tighter around her body. Erik seemed to sense this, and he secured an arm around her as they approached the van. They both boarded it, the only noise being the thick shutting of the door. He turned to Christine who had plumped down upon a seat, and she could see disappointment plainly reflected in his golden eyes.

"Do you have it?" He asked softly.

Christine procured the small disk from her pocket and tossed it in Erik's direction. "What's going to happen to me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. Nadir looked back, but said nothing. He knew it was not his place to say anything, and they both awaited Erik's answer.

"I don't know."

She turned away, not wanting the men to see her tears. Instead, she was greeted by the pretty blonde girl who Erik said he would rescue. She was happy to see his words were true, a part of her didn't believe that he would. There was something odd with the girl though, she did not appear to be frightened. In fact, she seemed rather calm and collected. She seemed to sense Christine's confusion, and held out her hand in greeting. "I'm Meg Giry." She announced as Christine took the offered hand.

_Giry… it couldn't be…_

Looking towards Erik for confirmation, he nodded stiffly. "Meg is Antoinette's daughter. She's an operative as well, Christine."


	8. Evaluation

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone for the amazing reviews, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm going to work a bit on _Her Promise _and a short one-shot for the lfn fandom next, so I'm not quite sure when the next chapter will be up. Hopefully it will be soon!

* * *

"You tricked me." Christine's tone dripped with rage and disbelief as she walked alongside Erik back into Section One. He led her in the opposite direction Nadir and Meg had just taken, but he said nothing.

"Where are we going?"

"Evaluation."

She stopped abruptly in her tracks. "Now?"

Erik turned around, but was unreadable to her. "Yes. Operations does not like to be kept waiting. We have to go now."

"Why don't you just sign my death warrant right here?" She all but screamed it at him.

"We have no time." Erik only succeeded in angering her further as he continued his steady pace.

"You could have told me that she was an operative and I wouldn't have left!"

"That just defeats the purpose of having her there, now doesn't it?" Erik snapped back, looking her straight in the eye as they approached Operations' office. "Besides," he continued in a softer tone, "I distinctly recall telling you to leave it alone. You deliberately disobeyed me."

Christine caught the look of despondence in his eyes. "Well, I apologize for being such a damn disappointment."

Erik gently took her hands in his own, shaking his head regrettably. "You're not a disappointment, Christine. It's my fault. I didn't prepare you enough for what you had to do. With most of the recruits, their survival instincts kick in, and compassion is one of the first things to go. Compassion is your greatest weakness." He felt Christine's grip on his hands tighten slightly, but assumed it was out of fear of her evaluation rather than anything else.

"I can't do it, Erik," she sobbed, "I can't change who I am."

"Then I can't help you anymore." Christine's eyes fell to the ground as she absorbed the coldness of his words. She knew he probably did not intend to come across as harsh sounding, but it was harsh nonetheless.

"Christine," he began, "we are going to speak to Operations right now. He's in charge of Section one. You know as well as I do that he's a ruthless man, and considering he expects nothing but perfection from his operatives, he probably won't be pleased. Just… do me a favour, and please don't give him any sass. It will only make things more difficult for the both of us." He waited patiently for Christine's nod before approaching the automatic sliding door that led to Operation's office, Christine following in step behind him.

Awkward silence greeted the pair as they entered the large office that overlooked Section's hub. The tall, dark, older man stood in front of a console, and Christine could see footage of her mission being played on the screen. "Secure the room, Erik."

She had to admit, this man did not have to say much to send shivers up her spine. Erik did as he was told, silently punching a few numbers into a touchpad located not far from where they were standing.

Christine watched anxiously as Operations pulled up her file on the large screen and began to read from it. "Christine Daaé. Age, 22. Supervised by Erik Vachon, Level Five," he paused for a short moment to scan the screen. "You did well in training. Your numbers are impressive."

"T-thank you, sir."

"Unfortunately, your performance was not."

Christine looked towards Erik for a moment, unsure of what to say. He didn't appear to be of any help. She bit her lip in anxiousness, trying not to appear as flustered as she was actually feeling.

"Let's go over that, shall we?" Operations touched a button on the remote in his grasp, and the footage came back up, this time it was displayed on a different screen. Christine chose not to watch it, but the audio rang clear in her head.

"_Cancel me."_

"_Christine…"_

"_I mean it, Erik!"_

"_No, you don't. You're wasting both of our time. Give it up. I'll get the girl, you focus on the mission."_

"_Promise?"_

"_Yes."_

After pausing it, Operations looked sternly towards the pair. "First of all, it would do both of you good to keep your emotional breakdowns separate from the mission. You lost valuable time." The man snapped, and Christine hated how small and inferior he made her feel. She wanted to say something back to him, to defend herself and Erik, but she knew that it would only succeed in getting them into more trouble.

"As you now know, we also slipped a small test into your mission. We had Meg Giry pose as Gilmore's escort, she had spent a few days with him beforehand. We knew you would come across the additional intel on him, and we had to see if you would put collateral before the mission. You did." He watched for a response from Christine, and after garnering a hesitant nod he continued, "And in doing so, you failed that test. Miserably."

Erik chose that moment to interject his 'boss', "With all due respect, Christine still values her compassion, and it is very difficult for someone of Christine's history to abandon it in a mere two years..."

"I was not asking for excuses, Vachon. I'll get to you in a moment." The older man snapped, looking back towards the screen as he displayed the moments before Erik killed Gilmore.

"This is not acceptable. You deliberately disobeyed orders. It was in your mission profile to cancel the target, and you failed to do that." Operations turned to Erik, looking the masked man straight in the eye.

"I'm disappointed with you, Erik. You know better than to break position, especially on a review."

"The sequence was completed. We got what we went in for."

Operations did not bother to argue with Erik's defense, although normally he would not have gotten away with it. "And your recommendation?"

"I don't think cancellation is necessary in this case. You said yourself her numbers are impressive, I think she requires more practice in the field." Erik said sternly.

"You're dismissed, Christine. Erik, just a moment."

* * *

Christine had been more than happy to have left them alone. As she heard the sliding doors close, she made her way to Nadir's station in the hub. There were two other men there, Raoul and someone else she did not recognize.

"Raoul," she said softly, watching as he turned around to see who had called his name. He smiled upon seeing it was her, and pulled her into a quick embrace. Although she knew he was now a ruthless Section operative, she had to admit he still was capable of making her feel more comfortable and complacent.

"Christine, I'm glad to see you're okay. How did you do?"

Christine shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't give the best performance but it looks like I'll live to talk about it."

Raoul gave a short chuckle, "Well, that's a good sign. I wish we could have a chance to catch up, but I just came to run something through with Nadir, and I have to be leaving. Take care of yourself." He said before planting a short kiss on her cheek.

"You too." He smiled again as he left, and Christine turned to Nadir, who was giving her a suspicious look.

"You like him, do you?"

"He's an old friend. I was surprised to see him here," Christine paused for a moment, looking up at the perch above the briefing table. She could see Erik and Operations speaking, and they both appeared to be getting angry with one another. "What are they talking about?"

"Oh, probably you."

"Does Operations want me cancelled?"

"If either of them wanted you cancelled, you'd be dead right now." Nadir said plainly.

Christine furrowed her brow, "Who makes that decision?"

Nadir shrugged, finally looking up from the computer screen. "Erik can recommend a course of action to take, but it's ultimately Operations' decision. Besides, he owes Erik from a while back, so you're probably safe."

"Owes him for what?"

"You know, Christine, curiosity won't get you too far here… if you really want to know you should be asking Erik that."

She gave an exaggerated sigh as she looked back up towards Erik, who appeared to be getting more livid with each passing moment. There was a slim chance that he would tell her anything, he seemed to be closed about affairs regarding his own life. She did not know why he never wanted to talk about himself, but she assumed that her supervisor would always have his secrets, and there was little she could do to change that. "What does Erik think about Section?"

Nadir considered her question. "I think he likes it."

"Why?"

"Has Erik ever talked to you about his mask?"

"No," Christine paused; in all truth she never thought of it much. It was as if it was a part of him, a part of what made him who he is. "Why does he wear it?"

"Between you and me, he hides a bad deformity under it. I've never seen it, but I've heard it's pretty bad," after clearing his throat Nadir continued, "Before Erik came to Section, he was ridiculed and mocked because of it. I think Erik likes Section because no one in here gives a damn about what he looks like. We're all too busy trying to survive."

"I suppose that makes sense." Christine felt pity for Erik. Life for him must have been horrible, especially if a place like Section One provided the only chance for him to fit in. She glanced back up towards the perch to study him, but he had left.

"He's coming," Nadir whispered, "not a word about what we talked about, Christine." He waited for her nod before getting back to his work. She watched as Erik calmly entered the hub, making his way towards her and Nadir. She greeted him with a smile, and she was surprised to see him return it, if only slightly.

"Come, I have something to show you, Christine."

* * *

_I'll be posting Erik and Operations' little tiff after Christine left later; it doesn't really fit here yet. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next will have some loverly E/C fluff. Please R&R, and have a great day. _


	9. Kisses

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N: **Heh, hopefully people will like this chapter better than the last. I did, aha. So if you liked it, there's no hurt in reviewing. Thanks to those that did. Kisses,

* * *

Christine stood behind Erik as he procured the keys to the apartment door they were standing in front of. "Erik, what are we doing here?" 

"You'll see." He said softly before allowing her to enter first. He turned on the light, and Christine gasped as she took in the beautifully decorated little flat.

"It's beautiful, Erik… do you live here?" She asked, smoothing her hand over the marble countertop.

"No, you do."

Christine looked up, a grateful smile plastered upon her face. She made her way to the living area, and picked up one of the framed photos. It was of herself and her father. She glanced over all the others, and turned to Erik once more. "How did you get my stuff?" Christine had thought she would never have seen any of this again, but here it was. All her photos, all her memories, they were all here.

"We have our ways." Erik said simply.

"Thank you." She held another photo in her hands; it pictured her and her first boyfriend, if one could call him that at such a young age.

_Raoul…_

"Have you ever been in love, Erik?"

Erik tilted his head to the side, gazing at her through discerning, narrowed eyes. Her question came unexpectedly, and he wasn't sure of how to respond. "Why do you ask that?"

"I am only curious. I've known you for two years now, and I really don't know that much about you." She shrugged, picking through the last of the photos.

"I've loved once." He didn't appear to want to continue, and Christine sauntered over to the refrigerator for something to drink.

"You've loved once? Is that it?" She waited for him to speak but he said nothing. "You can't just leave it at that."

"She's dead now." Erik curtly sighed, looking away as he remembered that day.

"I'm sorry." Watching Erik with a heavy heart, she could see that he was uncomfortable with sharing this information, but she was too curious about the masked man to leave it at that. "Was she an operative?" Nadir had told her once that Erik was recruited when he was young, and considering she could not see him dating outside the Section, she must have been an operative.

Erik nodded, placing himself down on the loveseat. He took off his black gloves, putting them down gently on the coffee table.

Christine poured them both a glass of water before joining him on the sofa, holding her hand out in offering. Erik took the glass from her hands, and he tried not to stop breathing as their fingers briefly touched. She sat down beside him, only mere inches away from the man. He knew she was expecting him to continue, and as much as he did not want to he also knew that it would help to finally get it out.

"It was five or six years ago, during a mission in Russia," he paused to swallow, "we were outnumbered. There was fluke in Nadir's system: it didn't pick up on all the hostiles." Erik paused for a moment to breathe, and Christine did not tear her eyes from his. She swore she saw a tear form in the corner of his eye. This was the most vulnerable she had ever seen him.

Erik felt his heartbeat rocket as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. A part of him cursed himself for enjoying her comfort, especially when talking about his past. However, he could not help himself. "She… she had asked for back-up before we left. I told her it wasn't necessary. She was the only one who knew about the additional shooters, I don't know how: I guess Operations must have told her exclusively… she asked for back-up for our sake…"

"Why would Operations only tell her and no one else?" Christine swore she heard the slightest whimper come from him, and she felt her heart catch in her throat. Erik rose from the sofa and began to pace restlessly across the living room.

"Because he was going to have her killed." He snapped, although his anger was not towards his companion. Christine lowered her head and closed her eyes.

"Why?"

She could feel him sit down again, his body stiff and rigid. "Our performances were slacking. Our loyalties were first and foremost towards each other, we placed Section second."

"Operations didn't like that… the Section had to be first…" she concluded, and Erik nodded absentmindedly.

"The only solution Operations could think of was to kill one of us, I was… less… less expendable than she, according to him."

Christine shook her head, the unjustness of it all causing her blood to boil. Poor Erik, what he must have been though, both outside and inside of Section. She was at least pleased that he found happiness with this girl, as brief as it was.

"Beatrix had to sacrifice herself for the mission, I can't remember why. After she died, we had to go further. We were ambushed and interrogated. They used torture; we were in there for several days. I still bear the scars…"

Christine swallowed nervously. "May I see?"

"What?"

"May I see your scar?" She repeated, "Is it the one you hide with your mask?"

"No… my face… it was not then…" He looked at her, confused.

"Then may I see your scar from that day?"

"Why?"

"I am curious. Scars tell stories."

Much to her surprise, Erik nodded, taking off his black coat and unbuttoning his dark dress shirt. Christine wondered for a brief moment what he was thinking. He moved his collar to the left, but she could see nothing but skin.

"I can't see anything, Erik." She inched closer to him, her breath was warm and gentle against his skin.

After waiting for him to unbutton a few more, Christine pulled his shirt down herself. "There it is!" She exclaimed, reaching out to trace the angry red mark with her finger. She did not seem to notice as Erik's breathing came to a quick halt. He didn't want her to know that he was nervous. "It must have been very painful for you." She said, but it was barely above a whisper.

Erik didn't respond to her statement. In truth, while it had been physically painful, it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil he had been through that day or everyday thereafter. His response was a simple pained sigh.

Startled, Christine looked up into his reflective emerald irises. They were beautiful, she had to admit, and it would not be difficult to loose herself in them. She did not move her finger away from his scar; instead she pressed her hand to his chest, savoring the warmth she found there. Christine inched closer to the vulnerable masked man, so close that their bodies were practically touching. With her eyes she seemed to ask permission to kiss him. He hesitantly nodded his approval, and not a moment later she swiftly and gracefully leaned in and placed her mouth on his.

It was the first time that Christine had kissed, truly kissed Erik. In truth it was the first time she had shared a lover's kiss with anyone. It was special, and they both knew they were unlikely to forget it. It was a moment they'd always recall in times of pain, suffering, loss, and sadness. That moment they shared together was something that no one could ever take away.

Erik slipped his eyes closed, allowing her warm and inviting mouth to soothe away the pain from his past. He brought one hand to rest in her blonde curly locks, and with the other he laced his fingers with hers.

Christine's free hand roamed over the surface of Erik's porcelain mask. She found herself growing more and more desperate to touch the skin beneath it, scars or no. Her fingers found the edge of the mask as she began tear to it off…

* * *

Christine yelped as Erik's steely grip tightened around her wrist. The mask was still in place, he managed to catch her before she saw the skin beneath it. 

"No." He hissed, and the all remnants of their kiss seemed to disappear with that one simple word.

"Why not?" She winced as he tightened his hold on her even more. She struggled to loosen it but to no avail. "Let me go!"

Erik released her so fast that she fell on her side on the couch. She watched as he walked back to the counter, placing a small black object and another set of keys down. "When that rings, you answer it." He commanded, gesturing towards the small cell phone. His sudden demeanor was very cold and emotionless, much like he had been before tonight. "The vehicle we came in is yours. The papers for it are in the drawers of your desk. Your new identity information is there as well; driving license, birth certificate, ID, bank cards, everything is there. Don't even think of running away, you may live outside Section now but we always will know where you are. When I call, you are to drop everything you're doing and report to Section, do you understand me?"

Christine approached Erik, she appeared just as angry as he was. "How dare you, Erik! I care for you! I kissed you, and all I asked was to see your face! Now you are cold and distant as you were before! That's all that matters to you isn't it Erik," she spat, "the Section. They've got you so twisted around their little finger, and you are too cowardly to stand up to them!" In a move that was more of a reflex than conscious thought, her hand flew out and slapped Erik soundly across the face.

_They kill your lover, and you continue to support them! You risk your life so they can survive every single day! You continue to do everything that they tell you to do, like a mindless robot! You are a weak man, Erik Vachon! _

Christine watched as his eyes closed solemnly, and in an instant she regretted hitting him. It was not his fault that he had such insecurities regarding his face. Was it really that bad? Well, in all truth her anger wasn't really targeted towards him not wanting to show his face. Perhaps what angered her most was the fact that no matter what happened between them, she didn't know if Erik could ever place her before the Section. Had she been in Erik's position all those years ago when Operations had Beatrix killed, she wouldn't have wanted to live any longer. She wouldn't have the strength to. She would have taken her own life. So, if Section had killed off the one person Erik had ever loved, why stay? What was left for him? Power? She did not know.

"Why did you stay in Section after Beatrix died, Erik? Why didn't you leave?" She asked, much softer this time.

"I can't answer that question, not now." He responded, his hand firmly on the doorknob. He heard a small, gentle squeak sound from her, but paid it no heed.

"Why can't you show me what's behind your mask?"

Erik looked back towards the girl, and took in a sharp breath before answering. "That's the last thing Beatrix asked for before she died. Please don't ask that of me." With those words the door slammed shut, and Christine could hear Erik's steady footsteps as he left her.

* * *

_Earlier, in Operations' office…_

"Do you have the disk?"

"Yes." Erik procured the tiny disk Christine had retrieved from his pocket. "What is on it?"

"That's none of your concern." The older man said as he placed it in the systems console.

"Well, considering you order my material to retrieve it on a two-year-review, I do believe it is my concern."

Operations said nothing, but he caught Erik staring out of the glass at Raoul and Christine.

"She likes him. And he likes her."

"You don't know that," the masked man snapped.

"I'm a better judge of character than you'd like to think." As he realized Erik was not going to comment, he continued, "They were close when they were younger. I think it would be good for them to continue their relationship now."

"Why would you think that?"

Operations sighed in frustration. "She'd ruin your reputation, and your performance. Your breaking of position on her mission proves that. It took you a long time to establish yourself back after Beatrix, do yourself a favour and don't get involved again. You know better. By rights I should have her cancelled."

Erik fought hard not to let his anger show, especially not in front of this man who was even more ruthless than he was. "You don't want to have her cancelled anymore than I do."

Operations interjected, "That's the only reason she's not dead right now, Vachon. Now leave me."


	10. Monster

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N: **I apologize for not updating this as quickly as I usually have, but I did go through and edited some of the chaps (again) for mistakes. Madbrilliant, thanks a bunch for pointing that out about Christine and Erik's relationship, I went back and altered that chapter as well. So, thanks again and lots of kisses to all those who reviewed (and read). Anyway, this chapter is a lot longer than the previous ones, so please let me know what you think. Also, if you come across any errors, I'd appreciate it if you could point them out as well. Thanks a bunch!

Anyway, I went to see Phantom in Toronto yesterday, it was absolutely amazing!!! My phantom was John Cudia, and Christine was played by Marni Raab. John was so amazing, I'm pretty sure I've fallen in love with him. Actually, there's no Phantom that I've heard of that I don't like, but seeing John live definitely takes the cake.

* * *

Erik fiercely threw open the stained glass door of his manor house, failing to notice as it shattered into tiny shards behind him. His maid, a Cantonese guest worker named Xiao-Ming, jumped in shock at the loud crashing noise her employer had made upon his unexpected arrival home that evening. She looked towards him with wide, frightened eyes, biting down on her lip nervously.

"Leave," He hissed. When she stood there, unmoving as a deer caught in the headlight, he screamed even louder. "Now!"

He heard a tiny 'yes, Sir' escape from her lips as she hurried past him and out the door. Forgetting to take his boots off, Erik stormed through the elegantly decorated manor house and up the stairs into the master bedroom. In one swift move he pulled the white sheet from the only mirror in the room, studying his reflection rather intently.

He thought Christine would understand. He thought she would understand why he didn't want her to see his face. He never told her what he was hiding, but what right did she have to know? He told her it wasn't during a mission, he told her and she still wanted to see. No, even that was giving her too much credit. She had taken advantage of the vulnerability he exhibited and when he was least expecting it she tried to tear down the only barrier he had.

_What if she had succeeded? Good God, what if she had succeeded? She would have fled. She would have screamed and she would have fled. She would have fled to pretty boy Raoul, no doubt. Christine would have done the same as anyone outside of the Section would, because she was not yet accustomed to something as horrific as my face. _

Placing his long fingers under the sides of his pale porcelain mask, Erik gently stripped it from his face. A truly hideous monster glared back at him through the mirror. While the left side of his face wasn't scarred, and dare he say it was even handsome, it was a cruel contrast to the nightmare on the right. The twisted and mangled skin wasred and angry, and several bits of gruesome skull tissue had been exposed. Above his drooping eye there was little evidence of an eyebrow, and his right nostril looked as if it had been stretched one or two inches towards the right. Blue veins were clearly visible underneath the thin layer of skin, and crimson lesions adorned his temple and continued down his cheek.

It wasn't always so bad. Well, in all actuality it was never good, but it had gotten worse over the years. The mask was partly to blame, he only ever took it off during the night or when he was home alone during his down time, although Operations never granted Erik a great deal of that.

Erik knew what it was to be handsome. He knew how people treated him when he had a full face. They were kind, and women would often smile at him or casually flirt. He experienced this occasionally when Operations would send him to perform undercover missions, and Erik would obediently undergo extensive, often painful hours while the prosthetic was being put on his face. The moment he arrived back at the Section, however, he would be sent directly to medical to get it removed again, often resulting in even more damage being caused to the sensitive skin.

It was not as if Section wasn't capable of fixing his face permanently. The Section was more than capable; in fact it would be mere child's play. Their technology was so advanced that they've accomplished things the 'real' world couldn't even begin to imagine. Had he ever been given the choice, Erik would jump at the chance to undergo a procedure that would eliminate his scars forever, but Operations had insisted strongly against it.

Operations was not a stupid man, he knew that if Erik became too accustomed to being attractive and amongst normal people, it would not be difficult for Section's top operative to simply eliminate his own files, leave, and never be seen again. With a beautiful face, Erik would no longer be afraid of the public, and he could accomplish so much on the outside. It was because of this fact that Operations always made sure the prosthetic was temporary. That way, Erik would have no choice but to seclude himself into Section One.

_Besides, everyone is well aware of the price of disobeying_ _Operations. Christine was right, I've given the Section complete control over my life, or rather what is left of it. She was right, I am just a puppet, and for the past decade I've simply allowed Operations to pull my strings. Christ, I don't even know how to stop it. _

Erik glared at his reflection in the mirror, wincing as he brought his hand up to prod at the delicate skin.

_It was because of this… because of this that I've created my own hell and lived in it ever since. It's because of this that I'm stuck here in the first place._

With all the force he could muster, Erik slammed his fist into the large mirror. Tiny shards embedded themselves into his flesh but he paid them no heed. Wheeling around abruptly, he limped over to the dust-covered desk in the corner of the room, pulling out a file from the first drawer. He fell to the ground, rummaging through the mess of papers and leaving a sticky blood red trial on each of them. Erik pulled out the clipping that headed his supposed suicide in juvenile prison. That was the lie that accounted for his disappearance. No one bothered to find out if it was true. Then again, who would? His mother? Hardly. No, his mother was more concerned with what to wear for her new boyfriend. In the twelve years since he's been in Section, he wouldn't be surprised if his mother ever once thought of him.

Erik flipped through several other clippings, ignoring the sharp cutting pain the glass was causing him. He moaned as he saw an old photo of himself and Beatrix.

_Oh God, Beatrix._

It was the first time in his life he could ever recall being happy. While the blonde-haired beauty was in very many ways the polar opposite of himself, he had loved her very deeply. She was always cheerful and full of light, despite being an operative. Like Christine, Beatrix had moral qualms regarding Section's philosophy. However, what truly separated Christine from Beatrix was that Beatrix could become a cold-blooded killer if the situation called for it. She had always been deadly efficient. Beatrix could kill on a mission, and simply not think of it the next day. Erik wasn't sure Christine was ever capable of killing.

It was the photographs of Christine that he saw next, merely random pictures he had taken of her out and about. He had been watching her for around three years before he brought her into Section, gathering as much information as he could. Christine was different from the other operatives. Around ninety-five percent of the other operatives have killed before coming to Section. Section simply offered them a new life in the place of one behind bars. Christine never killed, and yet despite the fact Erik had recruited her anyway.

_I'm sorry, Christine. I'm so sorry. _

Erik came across another photo of her; it depicted the eighteen-year-old participating in her school's talent show during her graduating year. He let himself a brief smile at her get-up. She had chosen to sing Marilyn Monroe's 'Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend', complete with the tacky pink dress, bright red lipstick, bleach blonde hair and her 'harem of male followers'. While the song didn't allow her much room to showcase her talents, he learned very quickly after that she was quite a skilled singer, much to his own delight. Erik had been gifted with music as well, but that was yet another part of himself that he hid from the world.

Hunching over, Erik held the photos of his Christine close to his heart, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he let himself cry out his grief.

* * *

It had been two weeks since Christine had spoken to Erik or to anyone else for that matter. Section had not called her in yet, and she was beginning to think they had forgotten about her. She was becoming rather lonely by herself, she had been reluctant to go and meet other people outside of the Section. Not to mention it didn't help that Erik had never bothered to visit her. She could only guess that he was still angry with her from before, not that she blamed him but still it made her sad. A knocking on her door broke her train of thoughts.

_If everyone thought me dead… who would be visiting?_

Quietly, Christine stepped into her kitchen, retrieving the silencer from one of the cupboards. She slowly made her way towards the door, and peered through the peephole.

_Oh, Raoul…_

Tucking the weapon away and scorning herself for her false alarm, she undid the many bolts on her door, greeting Raoul with a large smile.

"Hi, Christine."

"Hey, Raoul, its- its nice to see you." She said, laughing as he drew her into a quick embrace.

"May I come in?"

"Of course." Christine stepped aside, allowing him entrance to her small apartment.

Raoul turned around; he seemed to be studying her. "So, how have you been?"

Christine shrugged. "Not bad." She had to admit, it felt awkward being around Raoul again. It was as if they had nothing to talk about. Right after Raoul had 'died', her father had taken her elsewhere to help her get over it. But here he was, Raoul de Chagny was standing in front of her now, alive and well. The man walked over to her, taking her hand in both of his own.

"I missed you, Christine. I had thought that I'd never see you again," he took a moment to swallow before continuing. "And in truth if this way the only way I would rather not have." Christine nodded absentmindedly, she obviously felt the same. "I was thinking that maybe we could continue our relationship now. I mean, as long as it doesn't interfere with our work, its fine."

"Raoul…"

"There's no hurt in having something to live for in Section, Christine. Please, don't let Erik be the reason we can't see each other."

"I never said…"

Raoul's grasp on her hands tightened considerably. "You don't know what he's capable of, Christine. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'm fine. I'll be fine." She assured him, a stern, hard look crossing her features. As if in response, her cell phone rang for the first time in weeks. She quickly pulled her hands back to answer the ringing phone. "Yeah?"

"Briefing, thirty minutes. Be there."

* * *

Christine and Erik sat at the briefing table by themselves, neither of them bothering to speak to the other. Christine was loudly chewing on a piece of gum much to Erik's annoyance while they were waiting for Operations and Antoinette to come and brief them on the next mission. When the boss finally arrived, he wasted no time getting down to business.

"This is Scott and Jane Biller." Operations said, pulling up their headshots on the hologram. "They've been married for approximately a decade. Not only have they established themselves as arch-enemies of Section, but they also have in their possession five samples of a deadly nerve gas. The gas has a limited shell life, so if they're going to use it, it's going to be soon. Retrieve the samples. Do not, under any circumstances, allow them to release it into the public. The last thing we want is innocent lives on our hands." Christine arched a brow at the mission profile.

_This is new. Section is actually going out of their way to protect the innocent for once. I'm almost impressed._

"Where are the samples being kept?" Erik asked.

"In the study. It's heavily guard, hell; the whole house is heavily guarded. You'll both have to work on the inside." He informed the agent.

"How are we going to get on the inside?" Christine furrowed her brow.

"They have one weakness. Jane has a daughter," Operations spoke with an obvious lack of tact, "she is dead, but Jane isn't aware of that. You'll be posing as the daughter, Christine. If she trusts you, she'll welcome you with open arms into her home."

"Her name?"

"Jane doesn't know her name. Use your own. The baby was born while Jane was in prison, she's only aware of the basic facts. Birthplace, date, age, etc. This is all in the profile, study it, know it well. We'll set you up in a house with Erik; I believe they will begin surveillance on you in a few days."

Christine looked towards the masked man, a questioning look on her face. What did he have to do with this? Antoinette seemed to sense the girl's uncertainty and she was the first to speak up. "Erik will be playing your husband, Christine. You'll have to appear convincing as two people in love."

_Oh, this is great._

Operations let out a dry snort. "Additional Intel is on your profiles. Erik, get yourself to medical. Do whatever you need to get ready, do it now. I want the mission to start by midnight." With that, everyone at the table began to leave. Christine watched Erik from the corner of her eye, wondering briefly if he was going to speak with her about what happened between them before the mission started. After quickly banking on a 'no', she instead reached out to grab his arm.

"Erik, I need to talk to you…" she began, hesitantly.

"There's nothing to say. Get ready." The masked man turned to leave, but her grasp on his arm tightened.

"Erik, please."

She released a sigh of relief after he reluctantly nodded and led her into his office. He sat down at his desk, but neither of them said a word. They just looked at each other awkwardly.

"Can you secure the room, please?" Erik nodded again silently entering a few digits into the touch pad on his desk. "What do you want to speak about, Christine?"

Christine rushed over to him, and she could tell he became uncomfortable with her closeness. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, Erik. I just wanted…"

"You just wanted to what, Christine?"

She opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say. "I just wanted to tell you that I cared for you and it didn't matter what your…"

"Don't you understand?" Erik hissed, rising to his feet. He towered over the young woman, and Christine tried her best to keep herself from shrinking back. "You stupid girl! Do you really think you are so strong and heroic that you won't be frightened? I am no fool. You are no different from anyone else!" He pushed her against the wall then, twining his large fingers into her blonde curls. Her breathing faltered and she tried to push him away but could not find the strength within herself to do so.

Erik lifted a hand and for a short moment, she thought he was going to strike her. That didn't happen; instead, he lightly traced her lips with his index finger. "Erik…" she rasped, breathlessly.

Resisting the temptation to enfold her in his grasp, Erik pictured her frightened features should she ever see what he hid beneath his mask. "Leave it alone. Leave **me** alone." He snarled.

"Why are you being like this?" She cried out, garnering all the strength she could to push her supervisor away. Christine wrapped her arms around her body, fighting with all she had not to cry in front of him.

"Christine," he cleared his throat, almost casually. "You might want to take Raoul up on his offer."

"What? How do you- " Before she could even finish her question, a knock sounded and Erik wasted no time in allowing the intruder inside. Christine was both relieved and annoyed that Antoinette had interrupted, but she wanted to know how in the world Erik was aware of what Raoul had asked of her…

"Here, before you two get ready, I needed to give you this." Antoinette pulled from her pocket a baggy consisting of three rings. She passed it onto Erik, who in turn emptied the contents into his hand. He slipped his own ring on his wedding finger before turning back to Christine. He softly took her hand in his own, and Christine inhaled sharply at the gentle contact. After slipping the rings on her finger, he brought her hand to his lips, planting a tender kiss upon the ivory skin.

_How can this man be so mean one moment, and gentle the next? Why is he doing this to me? Never can I tell what he is truly feeling…_

Christine swallowed down her anxiety as she watched his false affections. "Do I have to love, honour, and obey?" She asked him quietly, a challenge gleaming in her eye.

A smirk crossed Erik's features and he shook his head. "No, I only ask for one." After garnering an expectant, haughty look from her face, he continued calmly. "Just obey."


	11. Normal

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope.

**A/N: **Okay, before I started writing this story, I basically knew where I was going with it. This chapter, however, gave me ideas to kind of change what I originally had planned. The endings are basically the same, but I think this way it kind of flows better. Which means that I'm going to have to cut the scene that included the title, but what can you do. So, anyway, here's the mission where Erik and Christine have to play husband and wife, and since they're acting there's probably going to be quite a bit of ooc-ness in this chapter. Also, in the previous chap I mentioned that Operations had Erik wear the prosthetic on some missions, and this is one of them incase anyone is a bit confuzzled. Enjoy!

* * *

"Christine… Christine," Erik approached the bed tentatively, a tray of two tall Starbucks coffees in hand. They had been living like this for over a week- as husband and wife. Setting the tray gently down on the end table, he remembered her newly adopted, unparalleled talent to sleep through anything. With one finger, Erik reached out to prod at his 'wife'. "Christine, it's time to get up," he said, a bit louder than before.

"Mmmfalse." Christine murmured while rolling over to lay on her other side, facing away from him. She tucked the sheet about her and pulled it over her head, so as only a messy flash of gold peaked over the top. She was not terribly tired, but she found it playfully amusing to kick up a fuss, and God knows how much she missed that. After a moment when she finally relented, she propped herself up on her elbow, reaching out and twining her small fingers in Erik's thick dark hair. "How long have you been up for?" She asked him, finishing with a yawn. Her gaze was fixated just beyond Erik's now flawless face. Christine was shocked when she had first seen him without a mask (and perfect skin to boot), but she did not question it.

Erik shrugged. "Not very long." He watched with a tiny smile as Christine came back into focus.

"You brought coffee?"

Nodding, Erik reached over and handed Christine the hot cup, their fingers briefly touching. Her brows furrowed as she took notice of the little cuts in Erik's hand, and with her own free one she seized his. "Sugar, where did you get these?" She asked.

"The cat." As if in response, a beautiful Siamese cat sauntered in the master bedroom. Christine hid a smile as Erik picked up the feline, stroking it gently. He brought in near the bed, but was stopped by Christine's protesting hand.

"No… cat does not come near bed. I just finished cleaning in here,"

Erik rolled his eyes tenderly, "Oh, Ayesha, mommy's a little grouchy today, no?"

Tossing the coverlet to one side, Christine hurried Erik and the cat out of the room. "Well, maybe if _daddy _cleaned up the hair every once in a while, we would not have this problem!" He flashed a sharp look before being locked out.

Christine had to admit it to herself, she very much enjoyed being normal for a change. And Erik, well, when Erik was acting he was an absolute sweetheart. He was so kind and gentle; he even went as far as to mow the lawn for the little old lady who lived across the street. She wished this was real, and at times she allowed herself to believe it was. At times she allowed herself to forget that they were basically told what to say and when to say it.

After showering and clothing herself in a sweater and jeans, she made to join Erik in the kitchen. Christine inhaled the wonderful scent of fresh bacon and eggs. She smiled to herself as she took in Erik's figure at the stove.

_He cooks. Goodness, you have to tell me about yourself one day, Erik._

"That smells delicious!" She playfully leaned over and pressed a tender kiss to his perfect cheek. Erik smiled as he turned to her for a moment, and she felt herself blush.

"What do you have planned today, my darling?" He asked.

Christine shrugged, using the remote to turn on the small TV in the kitchen. "I don't know… do you think we could go to the Georgian Mall? I need to get a dress for the wedding…"

Erik began to protest, "Sweetheart, that's hours away…" he was silenced, however, when Christine batted her eyelashes at him. "No… don't even try, that won't work."

"Please."

"No."

"Erik," she whined, wrapping her arms securely around his stomach from behind him. "I suppose we could go to Meg and Raoul's house... she wanted to show me those floating candles she bought…" Before Christine could continue, Erik interjected. He was _not _going to spend the day with Raoul while Christine and Meg chatted about false wedding details.

"Shopping it is, then."

* * *

Erik waited patiently outside the change room as Christine tried on what had to be the sixth cocktail dress that caught her eye in the past hour. His elbows were planted on his knees as he sat silently, occasionally glancing at his watch. Looking up as Christine stepped out, Erik's breath caught in his throat at the sight of his 'wife'. She wore a simple, strapless, formfitting crimson dress, and Erik swore he had never seen her look more stunning before that moment.

"Christ, Christine, you look amaz-" He was silenced by a wave of her hand.

"You're just saying that because you have to. Come here, I need you to lace me up." She said, gathering her blonde curls and pulling them over her shoulder so Erik could tie the laces. He complied, moving behind her. Christine bit her lip as she felt the slight touches of his fingers behind her. She watched both their reflections in the mirror, trying to discern Erik's expression as he worked on the laces. Christine had to admit it to herself; he was one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes upon. She knew it wasn't real, this perfect face, and it saddened her. It saddened her that as soon as the mission was over, he would be back to the same insecure, cold and ruthless operative of Section One.

Erik seemed to sense that Christine had wandered elsewhere, and he spoke up as got to the last ties of her dress. "What's on your mind, my love?"

Christine shook her head sadly, leaning back into him when he had finished. She sighed as his arms wrapped around her from behind. When he concluded that the girl wasn't going to answer, he leaned forward slightly, and whispered in her ear. "You don't want to go back to Section One."

"Erik… we're not supposed to be talking about that," She whispered back.

"They haven't followed us in the mall, they are waiting outside. Do not worry; they don't know what we are saying. Nadir said that they are at our home right now, and they're going to abduct us when we return."

_Home. _

Christine turned around in the embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck affectionately. "They believe the set up?"

Erik nodded, and Christine felt his arms tighten slightly around her body. "How do they think I'm Jane's daughter?"

Erik shook his head, shrugging. "I don't know. Antoinette or Operations must have taken care of that."

"Are they taking the both of us?"

"They should. Do you remember the intel on your character?"

Slightly confused that he would call someone who once lived a 'character', Christine nodded her head. "I do. Erik…"

"Yes?"

"What if they don't?"

"What if they don't what, my dear?"

"What if they don't take the both of us? What if they only take me? Then I'd have to find the samples all on my own. I don't know if I can-"

Erik interjected her, lightly touching a finger to her lips. "If they don't, Nadir will help you. He will tell you what to do. Just make sure you have those earrings in at all times."

Christine was just about to speak when a third voice interrupted them, "Oh, I'm sorry!" The two operatives pulled away from each other at the same time as the sales person wheeled around on her heel, slightly embarrassed at walking in on the couple.

"No, no, it's okay. We're sorry." Christine assured the girl. She looked to Erik briefly, noticing that although they had pulled apart he did not release his hold on her hand.

"Oh, well… how do you like it then?" The sales girl asked, walking over to slightly adjust the top. "It looks lovely on you!"

"I love it, what do you think, Erik?" Christine asked her fellow operative.

"You look beautiful, my darling." Turning away then, Christine didn't want him to see how her face flushed a shade similar to her gown.

Erik paused for a moment, remembering the diamond necklace he had bought for her earlier. "I almost forgot, Christine, I have something for you!" Pulling the case out of his inside pocket, Erik opened it, smiling as Christine's eyes widened considerably at his unexpected gift.

"Erik, it's beautiful!" She exclaimed as Erik clipped the necklace around her neck. Without even thinking over her actions, Christine wrapped her arms once more around the man's neck, and planted a warm kiss upon lips tenderly. While most of the kisses they shared in the past week had been planned or otherwise acted, much to Christine's surprise, this one was not, at least not on her part. The kiss was neither long nor passionate, but it was true. His breath was warm and inviting against her lips, and she had to fight the temptation to capture his mouth once again.

Christine hadn't the slightest idea why she was so drawn to Erik. She knew little about his life outside of the Section, yet it seemed as if she had known him for her entire life. She wouldn't and couldn't have been able to explain it. This man was her mentor, her confidante, and her friend for over two years, and she was sure he had saved her from Operations and cancellation multiple times during the course of her training and afterwards. She wasn't even sure what it was she felt for Erik, either.

Looking up into his reflective green eyes, Christine was greeted by a look of wonder and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

It took him a few moments to speak. "Are you going with this dress?" He watched as Christine bit her lip and nodded before he untied the first few laces for her.

"Alright, I'll go pay for it."

* * *

Christine was slightly disappointed when he insisted on leaving so suddenly. She wanted to know how he felt and whether or not she made a complete fool out of herself. He simply replied that perhaps they made a fool out of themselves together in front of the sales person, and she let herself chuckle at how silly they must have come across as.

_Convincing as two people in love, I assume. That's all they asked- er, ordered of us._

As they approached the doors, Christine pulled Erik gently to the side for a short moment. "Erik, I'm sorry."

"Christine, you have nothing to apologize for."

"No, it's not just in the store, I meant for trying to take off your mask." She said, reaching out to cup the side of his face that was usually hidden by the white porcelain mask.

Smiling sadly, Erik turned to kiss the inside of her palm gently. "It's forgiven, Christine."

"Thank you." She said honestly, though Erik could tell she seemed to be a bit nervous. He noticed that her other hand was trembling.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm just- just anxious about the rest of the mission, I guess I just - I don't want to do it alone."

"If they don't take me as well, Christine, I'll find a way to find you. Don't be worried. We have it under control." He smiled reassuringly, a look that was so strange on his features but Christine found it rather pleasant. "Ready?"

Christine inhaled deeply. "Yes."

* * *

As the couple parked the car into the driveway, Christine studied the house intently through narrowed eyes. She had managed to calm her nerves, and prepared herself for what… or who would greet them there. Christine got out of the car after Erik, and jumped slightly as he wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to whisper in her ear.

"You'll do fine, Christine."

She smiled at him as he gathered the couple of shopping bags they returned with. Standing behind Erik as he unlocked the front door, she did not look back as they stepped inside.

* * *

_Guys, I'm really sorry that this took so long to get out. Exams are coming up, so I've been focused on those. For those who are also looking for an update on 'Her Promise', I'm not sure when that'll be out, either. Hopefully sometime soon!_

_By the way, if anyone who's reading this is a La Femme Nikita fan_, _and I think there's a few of you, check out my new one-shot, 'Stay'. It takes place around four years after Nikita lets Michael go, so if you're a fan of the series, please check it out! Thanks, and have a wonderful week!_


	12. Twitterpated

**Summary**: Christine struggles to keep her humanity after being thrust into a new world where there is little humanity left. Erik is her mentor, and the only one who can help her escape for good. Will he ever be able to place his loyalties in Christine, or will the Section always be top priority? Modern day, AU. Phantom of the Opera / La Femme Nikita crossover.

**Disclaimer:** As much as I'd like to, I don't own Phantom or Nikita. Nope. Actually, I'm done disclaiming. This will be my last disclaimer. Mmyes.

**A/N: **Thanks to all those who reviewed, I really appreciate it!! For me, this is such a fun phic to write, and so I'm really happy people seem to be enjoying it even without seeing La Femme Nikita. That's so awesome. :)

* * *

"Lucas, get your ass over here!" Nadir yelled across the hub, clearly in a rather agitated state.

"I'm busy!" The juvenile yelled back, barely bothering to look up from his work.

"I don't care, get over here now!" When Lucas finally rolled his eyes and relented, he joined his supervisor. Nadir continued, rushing through his words. "I need you to take over Erik and Christine's mission, and send backup to Michael, and then… what was it…" Pausing, Nadir placed a hand over his forehead in frustration. "Oh yes! I need you to trace the source of this transmission…"

Lucas glared at him as if he had grown an extra two heads. "Should I shine your shoes while I'm at it?"

"Get to work." The older man snapped before marching off.

Lucas muttered under his breath before pulling up Erik and Christine's mission profile. "They're not even on point yet," he groaned to himself and instead pulled up the transmission.

He snickered at his assignment; it was too easy. Using the new signal averaging program he had created a few days prior, Lucas finished that effortlessly in no time. He yawned, leaning back in the chair while getting at the third assignment, but was interrupted when a hand on his shoulder startled him.

"Lucas," Raoul began. "I need you to do something for me. It's important."

"As if what I'm doing is not." The boy muttered, waving Raoul away as he continued his work. "Red team, go in. Retrieve Michael and the rest of the first."

"Lucas!"

"Do you mind? I'm busy."

Raoul leaned forward, whispering into his ear. "I know you got into the Directory when you were a recruit."

"How? I encoded all of that…"

"Doesn't matter. You know the penalty of breaking into the Directory without clearance is…"

"You're a royal asshole."

"Maybe so, but I'm not asking for much."

Sighing, Lucas pushed his John Lennon glasses further onto his nose. "What do you want?"

"I need you to get into Erik's file." Raoul said, barely above a whisper.

"No can do, I don't have clearance to that."

Raoul shook his head. "It didn't stop you before."

"Are you crazy? If I get caught in his file, that's my hand in the cookie jar."

"Well, don't get caught." Raoul said, glancing at Erik's missions profile on the screen.

Lucas, seeing the agents were still not on point, looked toward the older operative. "What do I do with it?"

"I want to change a few things." Seeing Lucas' alarmed expression, he chuckled softly and continued. "Not a lot, just a few."

"Is this some whacked-up attempt at turning Christine against him? Because if it is, I'll have you know that it probably won't work. She digs him, I know it. Trust me, that look that Christine gives Erik when he's not looking; I've gotten that from dozens of girls in my time. That's called love, my friend." He finished, almost matter-of-factly. "Twitterpated, I tell you."

Raoul glared at him, clearly not amused. "Christine clings to Erik because he had taken care of her in Section. She's not in love."

"Oh, I beg to differ. Why do you care anyway? Weren't you dating whats-her-face for a while?"

"Listen, just do what I say. It won't take long."

Lucas sighed, shaking his head. "I can't right now, I have to be on call for Erik or Christine. Later."

"Fine, call me when you have time. I want it done by the time they get back."

* * *

Her vision drifted in and out of focus, partially obscured by her blonde curls as she tried to look at her surroundings.

_My head hurts. This was definitely not a part of the job description. I want to go home._

Christine moaned, planting her feet firmly on the carpeted floor. She was surprised when her knees didn't give away, and even more shocked to find that her ankles had been cuffed.

_I can see these people don't want me going far. Great._

"Nadir," she whispered, but instead received a reply from Lucas.

"He's not here right now," came the response, "What do you need?"

"Where's Erik?"

"Couple of doors down. He's fine. Can you tell where you are?"

"No, some bedroom," Christine said, fingering the dress on one of the porcelain dolls on the dresser. "A lot of pink."

"Okay, well, just hold on. I've caught some activity coming up the stairs, I think its Jane. Remember to act distressed. She's probably going to ask you a few questions, don't sweat it."

"Right." Christine sat down on the bed, watching the door expectantly. She could hear the sounds of footsteps, and she thought over one last time how she was going to act.

When the door unlocked and began to open, Christine's expression melted into one of fear as Jane entered. The tall blonde was pretty, and looked to be about twenty years older than Christine.

"Who the hell are you?" Christine demanded, feeling her heart begin to race as she silently prayed that she would not screw up. "What am I doing here?"

"It's alright, we're not going to hurt you, Christine." The older woman said calmly.

"What do you want with me? Please, I have nothing…" Christine visibly appeared as if she was trying to hold back a sob.

"My dear, calm yourself, you have nothing to be afraid of."

"Where's my husband? I need to see my husband…"

"He's fine, Christine. I need to ask to a few questions, and then you both can leave if you wish to."

Christine looked up at this, even with her knowledge of this woman she was not expecting her to simply let her and Erik leave. She nodded, swallowing nervously.

"What date were you born?"

"April 4th, 1984."

"What was the name of your biological parents?"

Christine placed her hand behind her, leaning back on it. "Never knew them."

"City?"

"Toronto."

"Where were you born?"

"I just told you." Christine said, slightly confused.

"No, what hospital, Christine?"

The operative shrugged, and then glared up at the woman. "I wasn't born in a hospital." She watched as Jane inhaled deeply.

"Then where were you born?"

"I don't know." Christine began, getting defensive.

"I think that you do, Christine."

"No, I don't."

"Where were you born?"

"I don't…" The force of Jane's hand connecting solidly with Christine's face caused the girl to fall on her back. She whimpered, holding her stinging cheek in her hand.

"Where were you born, Christine?"

Christine got up to her feet then, not allowing the cuffs around her ankles to hinder her. "I was born in jail." She hissed.

"Oh, God." Jane moaned, pulling Christine to sit on the bed beside her.

"What?"

"My poor girl.

"What are you talking about?" Christine asked, furrowing her brow.

"I'm your mother."

"No, that's ridiculous," Christine cleared her throat, "They told me my father died before I was born, and then that my mother had died a few years ago."

"It's not true," Jane said, softening. She placed a hand upon Christine's knee, causing the young woman to stiff considerably.

"Can I see my husband now?"

Jane nodded, getting up to her feet. "Of course. Oh, I apologize for this," she said, crouching down to undo Christine's cuffs.

"Thank you,"

"Let me see you first." She held Christine, who she believed to be her long-lost daughter at arms length. "Oh, you're so beautiful." She said, cupping Christine's face in both of her hands.

Christine bit her lip, feeling more than a little guilty that this woman had lost her daughter and she was now exploiting that. She said nothing, only offering Jane a sad little smile.

"Anyway, here, follow me." Christine nodded and followed Mrs. Biller a few doors to her left. She gasped as she took in the elegant surroundings; Jane and Scott certainly were doing well for themselves. Jane unlocked the door, but instead of opening it she looked towards the younger woman.

"Christine, all I wanted was to see you, to make sure you were alive and well. You are free to go if you wish, but if you'd like to stay, please meet me in the gardens at noon." Christine nodded silently before entering. She saw Erik, still unconscious, on the bed.

"Lucas, are there any surveillance cameras in here?" She whispered as quietly as she could.

"Not in this room."

Christine nodded, perching herself delicately next to Erik's still form. Using two fingers she checked his pulse, relieved to find a steady beat. With the same hand, she found herself absentmindedly caressing his perfect cheek.

"No!" He screamed, twisting away from her in the midst of some terrible dream. Christine jumped in fright at his sudden movements.

_Oh, Erik…_

Christine wondered briefly what he was dreaming about… there were probably dozens of things he might have experienced in Section that would cause him nightmares. Heaven knows she had her fair share lately. Reaching out, Christine continued to caress his cheek, softly.

"Let her go!" Erik moaned, although he had seemed to have calmed slightly.

"Shh, Erik, it's alright," the girl soothed, "it's alright, Erik."

"Christine," he whispered.

"I'm here, Erik." She was not aware if he was still out or if he was coming to. He was sweating, and she quickly decided to go to the bathroom and get a cold rag. She crept out; making sure that no one was around before she left the room, remembering from the sim model she had studied a few weeks ago where it was.

In a few moments she returned, pressing the cold rag against his neck and then forehead. She did not say anything as she watched his eyes flutter open, and his hand reach to still her wrist.

"Christine! What's going on?"

"Shh, Erik, they're not listening, it's fine." She cooed, helping him to sit upright.

"How long have we been here?" He asked, wincing slightly as Christine pressed the rag against the back of his neck. When she drew back, she noticed that it was blood-stained. "Erik, you're bleeding, I think you have a concussion."

"I'm fine," he insisted, but she paid him no heed, settling herself behind him on the bed to tend to his wound.

"Do you remember anything?" She asked, placing her one hand gingerly on his shoulder.

"I remember the shop, you bought the red dress."

"Yes, after that?"

"It's not clear."

They were both silent then for nearly ten minutes, neither knowing what to say. Erik was finally the first to break the silence.

"You looked beautiful in that dress." He told her, quietly and honestly, causing Christine to release a soft giggle.

"Thank you." She said, thankful she was behind him so he couldn't see how much she was blushing.

"Did they hurt you?"

Christine shook her head. "No, they didn't. They let us go."

Erik's brows furrowed in confusion. "But we can't leave, Christine, we have to stay for the mission."

"I know. Jane said to meet her in the gardens at twelve if we want to stay."

Nodding, Erik leant back slightly. "Did she interrogate you?"

"Not really. She asked a few questions, it went a lot easier than I was expecting."

Erik watched as she got up from behind him and left the room without saying a word. She was back, however, with a small first aid kit. He rolled his eyes tenderly, "Christine, I really don't need-"

"Shut up, and yes, you do. What kind of wife would I be if I didn't take care of my husband?" She asked, smirking as she looked up to see his reaction. He just smiled briefly and shook his head. "You know, I can get used to that, Erik."

"To what?"

"You smiling. It's nice," she admitted, giggling to herself.

Erik clicked his tongue, "Stop being so unprofessional."

Christine was about to protest, before her eyes roamed over the cuts in his hands. "Erik, where did these come from? Doesn't look like cat scratches to me."

"Christine…"

"You don't want to tell me." She sighed, disappointed.

"Christine," he began to explain, but was silenced when she waved it off.

"It's alright; you never want to tell me anything. I've gotten used to it, Erik." She said, quickly putting the bandage over his wound.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, I just… can't right now, Christine. I don't know how to yet."

"It's alright," Christine started softly, "I understand. You'll tell me when you can though?"

"Yes."

Christine was startled at his reply, even though it was what she wanted to hear. She leaned in, and brushed her lips delicately against his, eventually trapping his bottom lip between hers. She was delighted to feel his arms wrap securely around her body, silently praying to God that this was real for him and not just an act. There was no reason to act, not now, not when no one was watching. Erik was the one to deepen the kiss, and Christine's eyes slipped closed. She felt herself becoming tired, and she let herself relax entirely in his warm embrace.

"Erik," she moaned in between kisses.

"Yes."

"Did you… did you choose… me… for this mission… or did… Antoinette…" She asked, her voice husky. She broke the kiss slowly, instead deciding to rest her head against his chest.

Erik's hand brushed through her curls. "No, I did."

"Why's that?" Christine reached up to trace his lips with her index finger.

"You needed more practice undercover," He said, pressing his lips to her temple.

Christine squeaked at his answer, clearly not very satisfied. "Is that the only reason you picked me, Erik?"

"No. No, it's not."


	13. Mother

"No, it's not." Erik breathed, feeling Christine still in his arms.

She bit her lip, turning in his embrace to look him directly in the eye. "Then why?"

Erik's mouth opened, and it looked for a moment as if he was about to give her a response, but he closed again. It seemed to Christine that for the first time in his life, Erik Vachon didn't know what to say. She waited patiently, but it didn't look like he was going to answer. She finally relented and sighed, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. "Fine, I won't torture you any longer. Let's get on with the show?"

When Christine swung her legs over the bed to leave, Erik's hand reached out, pulling her back down beside him. "No, Christine, wait." When she went to speak, he silenced her, brushing a finger against her soft lips. "What you want to hear, it's not something I can say right now."

"Erik…"

"No. Christine, it isn't that I don't want to tell you, it's that I…" he paused, running a trembling hand through his thick, dark hair, "I don't know how to yet."

Christine bit her lip, in contemplation of what he was telling her. "But, you opened up to Beatrix, didn't you?"

"And look where that got me." He hissed, getting up and walking angrily towards the dresser. "She's dead because I," catching himself before he said those dangerous little words, he turned back to Christine, fighting the urge to take her into his arms. "I can't allow you to be my weakness, Christine, not when our lives are always in danger. Please understand this."

"Erik, how can you ask me to understand why you don't want to be with me? I can help you, Erik. I know that you're hurt, I know that you don't want to let anyone else in after what Operations did to her." She took his hands in her own, her grip firm as she gazed into his eyes. "I can make it okay, Erik. If you would just give me the chance to show you… you don't have to be alone anymore."

"Christine, you don't understand…"

"I understand more than anyone else, Erik! Have you forgotten that I'm an operative as well? Just because we're Section, doesn't mean we can't have a life outside of it. What is so horrible about living for something you believe in for a change?" Mentally reminding herself she had to quiet down, she continued. "There's more to life than just missions and briefings. Don't you ever yearn for life on the outside? These past few weeks, sometimes, I let myself forget that it wasn't real. I let myself remember what it's like to be normal, Erik, and it was wonderful. To have a home, to have a family, I miss that. Didn't you? Didn't you for a moment?"

"I had nothing to miss, Christine."

She shook her head and swallowed down her tears. "That's it then? You don't want a life outside of the Section?"

"It's not that simple," he hissed, bringing her closer to his body to whisper in her ear. "The Section isn't meant to be some sort of job, it's our life. You would do well to remember that. It is the only thing that exists for us, the only family we will ever have. Whatever normal, real world you speak of; it doesn't exist. Not for us. We're ghosts, Christine; names on a tombstone. That's it."

Christine reached behind him, ripping the bandages from the back of his neck. She ignored how he winced and drew in air through clenched teeth as she pressed her fingers into his wound. When the girl finally relented, she held her hand close to herself, examining her crimson-stained fingertips.

"I don't know Erik, it sure looks like blood to me."

* * *

"So, Erik, what is it that you do?" Jane's motherly instincts had kicked in, and Christine would have to admit it to herself, she found it quite amusing and almost cute how her 'mother' was sizing her 'husband' up. She looked over at Erik, expectedly.

After securing an arm around Christine's waist, he answered her, "I'm a composer."

"Oh, anything I've heard?"

He smiled, "Unless you take an interest in opera, probably not."

"Oh, I see."

"And what about you, Christine?" Christine was take slightly by surprised, as it was the first time that Scott, Jane's husband, had spoken up to ask either of them something.

"I-"

"Christine is the leading lady; actually, it was how we met." Erik calmly interjected.

"No, it wasn't, we met before then." She began to argue, however playfully.

"No we didn't."

"Erik! Yes, we did! Don't you remember, you were hammered and-"

Gently covering her mouth with his hand before she could utter another word, he smiled nervously at the older couple before leaning closer towards Christine. "Not now, my dear. We'll talk about this back home."

"So, what is it that you do, Mr. Biller?" A perfectly innocent question, although both sides knew the answer to be anything but. There was a brief moment of silence before Scott finally answered.

"Business."

Erik lifted a brow, "So, what kind of business?"

"Oh, just little things," Jane finished for her husband. She got to her feet, and reached for Christine's arm. "Come, my dear, I would like you to see something."

* * *

Christine perched herself on the edge of the large fountain, set in the middle of a secluded little area in the gardens. It was the only area of the garden in which roses grew, and in multitudes of beautiful, different colours. She thanked the older woman for the glass of water handed to her, and eventually found herself absentmindedly gazing off towards a patch of thorny crimson ones. They reminded her of the morning that Erik had given her a single rose, and Christine had forgotten for that moment that it was all just an act.

"He loves you, you know." Jane said softly, as if reading her mind. Christine's head snapped up, startled that Jane would bring up her complicated relationship with Erik. "I apologize for the injuries that my men had caused him, he put up quite the fight."

"He'll live." Christine said, chuckling to herself. "Though, I do have a question for you."

"Yes?"

"I don't understand the necessity of bringing us here in the manner that you did…" Christine began, but was interrupted.

"We had to be sure that you were her."

"But then why-"

"Never mind that, Christine. It would be difficult for you to understand, I wouldn't expect you to." Christine noticed Jane becoming a little agitated by her question, but she had to appear convincingly curious.

"But, isn't there-"

"Christine! Please," Jane sighed, running a hand through her long blonde locks. "There will be time for that later…"

"Mrs. Biller, you kidnapped me and my husband. You brought us here, Christ, wherever here is! And you tell me that you're the mother I never had? How can you not expect us..." Shaking her head, Christine corrected herself, "me… not to ask questions?"

"Of course I expect you to ask questions, but there are things I must say to you first." Her voice was so gentle, washed with weariness of the spirit. At that moment, Christine had never felt more horrible, or guilty. She hated this; she hated pretending she was someone else in order to have the advantage against this woman, criminal or no. No matter what they did, it wasn't right to pretend to be her dead daughter.

_But this is my test. I've failed once. I've failed Erik once, I can't do it again. I need to prove myself. I need to prove myself to Erik, and to Section. This is the only way._

"What is it?" She asked, her voice faint.

Jane looked as if she did not know what to say, or where to start. Words hovered on the tip of her tongue, and she took Christine's hand in both of her own. "I-I made this for you, I thought you were dead, and I would come here and pray to God everyday that you were in heaven." Her voice wavered with barely concealed emotion.

"Mrs. Biller…"

"No! Please, just listen," the woman went on, silencing Christine with a tiny wave of her hand. "You-you were just born when they took you from me. I was in jail… of course I couldn't keep you. But, please, don't think I didn't want to…" Jane was near crying as she took Christine's face in her hands. Christine closed her eyes, not wanting to see the heartbreak that must have been etched on her face.

_Oh, God, I can't do this. I can't do this!_

"Oh, look at me, I'm a wreck! How childish of me!" Jane laughed through her tears, and Christine gave the hint of a smile, but did not look at her. "They would not even allow me to name you, let alone hold you. Once I was released, I tried to find you but they said you were dead. I'm so relieved that they were wrong!"

_I wouldn't get my hopes up. _

Christine sighed as she was pulled into a firm embrace. She said nothing, simply staring at the older woman through tired, tear-rimmed eyes. "I thought of you everyday," Jane whispered, "I would come here to remember you."

_Erik, you were wrong in choosing me. I can't do this! Why… why couldn't you have found someone else? Someone who could please you and make you proud… I can't…I can't even do this!_

"Oh, look at you, my dear, beautiful girl. He's taken good care of you, hasn't he?"

Christine looked up, startled. "Who?"

"Your Erik, of course."

Closing her eyes again, Christine nodded, absentmindedly fiddling with the fabric of her sleeve. "Yes, he has."

_But not in the way you think._

"Christine…"

"Mrs. Biller," she sniffled back a sob, whether it was part of the act or not, she didn't know herself. "This is… this is a lot of- it's just… overwhelming… I-I have to see my husband. Clear my head, just for a bit, would you mind if…"

_You little devil, Christine. You've almost managed to convince yourself._

"Of course, I know it's a lot to take in, if you need to get away for a little while, it is fine. I understand. I'll get you the keys."

"Thank you," Christine said, barely above a whisper.

"Just promise me something, Christine?" After seeing her hesitant nod, Jane continued, "Just, please come back."

* * *

"Luc!" Pretending to not be listening, Lucas muttered under his breath as Raoul approached. "Lucas!" He repeated.

"What do you want?"

"What we talked about…" Raoul began, but was silenced by the tired, apathetic look on the younger man's face.

"Must this happen now? If you don't mind, I'm kind of in the middle of some things… important things." He added, holding his head in his hands.

Raoul shook his head. "It'll only take a moment, just hook me up."

"Fine, fine. If it'll get you to leave me alone."

As Luc hurriedly wormed his way into the system's directory, Raoul waited, intently watching. "So, how did you figure out how to get into this in the first place, especially without clearance?"

"And give away my trade secret? No thanks. Here, do what you must, I'll be... uh, over there." Raoul watched as Luc made his steady way towards a pretty, young operative before setting off to work.

* * *

"I've finally found her, Scott." Jane exclaimed excitedly, her back to her husband. He wrapped his arms around her slender body, and she leaned into his safe embrace.

"Jane, now please, be reasonable."

"It's her," she assured him, "I know." Watching through the window as Erik and Christine left to get coffee, she sighed, elated that she had her daughter back.

"And if it truly is, I'll support you one hundred percent in this. But, you know the Section is at large right now, and they're after us, these two could very well be operatives."

Jane shook her head. "No, Scott. Not this time."

"Alright," Scott said reluctantly. He took his wife's face in his hands, kissing her delicately on the lips. "Just, be careful, I don't want you to get hurt."

* * *

_I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thanks to all those who reviewed! _


	14. Hurt

**A/N: **Thanks for reviewing! In this chapter, the italics (in the first bit) are Erik's thoughts, just to let you all know.

* * *

Erik looked around the small coffee shop, his arm fixed around a shivering Christine. "Lucas, is there anyone watching?" He whispered, although it probably appeared as if he was speaking to himself.

"Nope, you're clear."

Nodding, Erik sat the girl down at a table in the corner. He was studying her, and the concern was etched clearly on his face as she pressed her fingertips to her temples. "What would you like to drink, Christine?" He asked her, softly.

"Uh… a mocha, please."

Erik was back, minutes later with their drinks. He sat down, handing Christine's to her. Their fingers brushed for a short moment, and he tried his best to push it to the back of his mind. "What's the matter?"

"Erik, I can't do this anymore." She rasped and cursed herself for lacking the courage to carry out her mission, but she didn't have the heart to.

"Yes you can. You know the profile; it's not a difficult mission."

"That's easy for you to say!"

Erik began in an explanatory tone, "Christine, I trained you for this for two years. You can do this."

"No, you taught me to shoot a gun and dodge a bullet. You never taught me how to ignore a lifetime of moral values and beliefs." She watched through narrowed eyes as Erik moved his chair closer, and placed his arm over her shoulder. He pulled her to him, and she did not have the heart to resist him. She rested her head against his chedst, trying desperately to hold in her surfacing tears. "I can't, Erik."

"Shh," he whispered, "yes, you can. You're stronger than you think. I know its difficult now, but it gets easier, I promise you it will."

"I don't understand," she began to sob, and Erik felt himself break at the sight of her tears. They were tears that he blamed himself for, tears that she would never have had to cry if it weren't for being forced into this hellish existence. "Why must we be so ruthless?"

Erik shook his head, "The other side is ruthless, Christine. We have to be stronger, and this is the only way. But, if you look at a different side of it, Section One is an anti-terrorist organization. You're saving innocent lives by helping to take down these criminals."

"It doesn't seem fair."

"It's not. But you do what you have to." He threaded his fingers through her hair, just before she pulled away from him.

"Do what you have to…" she echoed, turning to catch his face with her apathetic, almost annoyed gaze. She felt herself hardening, her subconscious building a barrier to protect her heart. It was all she could do to keep herself from having an emotional breakdown that most likely would not be tolerated. "I can't live like that." She hissed.

"What choice do you have?"

Christine shot him a lazy glare. "Erik, you seem to overestimate how much I value my life. I'm no more important than anyone Section has cancelled or done worse to. If I have to spend the rest of my life like this, than I would gladly end it."

Erik closed his eyes, leaning over to rest his head in his hands.

_She would prefer to die than to live in Section. Not that I can blame her, it isn't as if I had never had similar ideas. But- it hurts. God, why does it hurt? What does it matter? It never bothered me the least bit before whether or not my material enjoyed their life. I couldn't have cared less. Why do I care about what Christine thinks? Why can't I think of her the same as everyone else? Why do I want her to be happy…why do I want her to be happy when the happiness of my operatives were never a concern to me before?_

_It is because she is innocent and the rest were scum, including myself. The rest did not care about anyone else, just as I hadn't. But, Christine cares. It was why she couldn't kill Gilmore, and it is why she is having a difficult time with Jane. She doesn't see these people as targets as I do. She sees flesh and blood and she cares!_

_I brought her into Section. She's here because I hand in the accident. She would end her life to escape what I have done to her. She would end her life to escape me._

_Why does it hurt?_

Christine frowned. "Erik?"

When he did not speak, she repeated herself, albeit more loudly. "Erik?"

"Erik! Why are you like this?"

"Keep your voice down, Christine!" He hissed, fighting the urge to send his cup flying off the table. His hand balled up in a tight fist, and he inhaled deeply to calm himself.

Christine was looking at him as if he had grown two heads, clearly unaware of the source of his anger. "What is the matter with you?"

"You don't think that hurts me, Christine? You think I _enjoy _hearing you say you want to kill yourself?"

Christine felt rage course through her veins, she wanted to stand up- she wanted to scream but she couldn't. "It is at least more than you have given me, Erik Vachon! I'm glad it hurts you- I'm _glad _it hurts. At least now I know you are human and you _can_ feel something for a change!"

"In that case I am more human than you think." He threw back, getting up from the seat in a fury and storming out the door. Christine looked around the small café nervously, relieved to discover that only a few spared the couple a glance or two. She got up herself and placed her cup, and Erik's forgotten one in the tray before following after him.

"What was that supposed to mean?" She asked him as she approached. She was quiet and cautious, unaware of the manner in which he would respond and she did not wish to anger him further. "Don't just say you can't tell me, I deserve to know."

"Christine," he began in a quiet, almost broken voice. "I do care for you. I have for- for a while. To hear you say that you do not want to live, its still- it's just, I don't know, I find myself unable to bear it. Contrary to what you might think, I do care deeply for you. I hate to see you unhappy, Christine. And I know it's my fault, because I brought you here." He told her, honestly. It was not the whole story, but it was a lot more than Christine had ever received from Erik, and for that she was happy. Hopefully the rest would come in time. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind him, leaning in to rest her cheek against his back. She felt his trembling hands grasp her own and he laced his fingers with hers.

"If it wasn't for you, I would be dead anyways, Erik."

Erik shook his head, and Christine could swear that she heard him stifle a sob. "That's not true. You are a good operative, Christine…"

_If you only knew the truth. If you only knew you weren't supposed to die in that accident._

"Not good enough. Operations surely would have cancelled me if it wasn't for you protecting me from him."

_That's not true either._

Erik said nothing for a long while, simply standing there, unresponsive as Christine tightened her grip around his waist. "Do you want to know what I think?" She asked, innocently.

Erik swallowed and turned his head to the side in an attempt to see as much or as little as of her as he could. "What's that?"

"If you would want to- not now- but you know I would be willing to listen to you, Erik. I think it would do you good to talk to someone. There's been entirely too much internalizing of emotions lately." She told him, sounding strangely more like Antoinette than herself.

Erik let himself laugh and turned around in Christine's embrace. She looked up at him with large, blue eyes, desperate to see any sign of openness or relief in his own. "You would listen, and not judge?"

Christine nodded, reaching up to place a hand on the cheek that used to be covered by the porcelain mask. She felt her throat tighten as she spoke, "I will listen and not judge, I promise."

Erik nodded, hesitantly placing his hands on both sides of her beautiful face. He looked at her, more deeply than he had ever had, and Christine could swear he was looking through her. "I will tell you, as soon as we are finished this mission and alone."

"Do you promise?"

Erik didn't know what he was doing, but he softly cooed and leaned in, pressing his lips against Christine's in a brief, tender kiss. He did not go further, however; and he broke it off almost as soon as he had initiated it. Christine looked at him, expectedly.

"I do."

There was a moment of intense silence between them, and Christine felt herself filling with some unknown pride. The man she had admired and looked up to for the past two years had finally admitted that he harboured feelings towards her, and that he would trust in her his darkest secrets once the time came. And she could not ignore his choice in words in promising to share this part of him exclusively with her.

A third voice spoke up, "Okay, guys, I hate to cut this heartwarming moment short, but y'all better be on with the mission now."

_How bloody marvelous. When I intend to tell something exclusive to Christine, the loudmouth always ends up knowing. How extraordinarily idiotic of me._

"Lucas! How long have you been listening?"

"Not very long, I just had an incredibly long debate with Nadir whether or not it's possible to tip a cow. Silly fellow thinks it's impossible."

"Lucas…" Erik began in a condescending tone.

"What do you think I'm doing over here? Eating popcorn? I have a job to do, and that's to listen in on your shit and make sure everything goes fine and dandy. I'm not responsible for what you say, and I can't be off duty. Tough."

"You could have reminded us you were there!" Christine cut in, "And Nadir's right, it's impossible. You think a cow's just going to stand there and let you push it? Like that's going to happen."

"First of all, you're operatives and you're supposed to be aware of these things, so don't go blaming me for listening to something you should have known I would be listening to. You're lucky Operations wasn't around, or he'd have both of your heads for sure. Secondly, no, Nadir's wrong. It takes 4.43 people to push a cow that is 1.45 metres in height at an angle of 23.4 degrees. This takes approximately 2,910 Newtons of force, equivalent to 4.43 people. See?"

"Whatever. I apologize for not devoting my entire life to the physics of cow-tipping." She shot back.

"Physics. Took a correspondence a few years back for it, only took me two weeks. I learned how to surf that summer." Came Lucas' haughty voice through the communicator.

"Enough!" Erik interjected, clearly not amused at the pointless bickering of the two young operatives. "We have to be focused and stop acting like children."

Lucas sighed. "What else is there to do around here? You people are so boring. I swear I'm the only one who keeps this place alive."

Erik rolled his eyes. "I liked you better when you were quiet. Christine, are you ready to go? We should be heading back soon."

"Yes, let's go."

* * *

Jane had eagerly given Christine a tour of the large manor house as soon as they had returned. She was more than happy to have shown Christine around, and was delighted in turn by the enthusiasm that the girl had displayed so far. Perhaps, in Jane's opinion, rekindling a mother-daughter relationship would not be so far-fetched. She could only hope.

Placing a portrait of a beautiful, older woman into Christine's hands, Jane smiled fondly at her 'daughter'. "Is this my- my… grandmother?"

"Yes, yes it is."

"You have a lot of her in you, Mrs. Biller." Christine offered, still assuming her character would face difficulties in calling this woman her mother just yet.

Jane seemed to sense this. "Please, if you cannot call me mother, please just call me Jane." She looked to the portrait, placing her hand over Christine's for a short moment. "I think there's a lot of her in both of us."

Christine looked up, startled. What was she supposed to say to that? She was in no way related to these women, yet Jane was seeing a likeness in her that was stirred by her own blind hope that her daughter was still alive. Christine said nothing and avoided Jane's gaze as she placed the frame back on the dresser.

"So, how did you meet Scott? You seem to be very close to him."

Jane shrugged, seemingly not wanting to talk about herself. "Through a business we used to work for."

From what she already knew about these people, it would be difficult to gather what that particular business was. It wasn't that Christine didn't know, but she assumed these would be questions that her true long-lost daughter would ask. But, that girl, whoever she was, would never know that her mother was a criminal, and that the 'business' she spoke of was much more than just that.

"I fell in love with him as soon as I met him, he is wonderful to me. We've tried having children, but it never worked. Eventually, we just gave up."

Jane watched Christine's expression, studying her through narrow, discerning eyes. Christine felt nervous under Jane's sharp gaze but managed to hold herself considerably well. "Well, it is getting late Christine, and I promised Erik I would not keep you for the entire night."

Christine smiled sweetly, relieved to be done her cover for the night. "Goodnight, Jane."

"Goodnight, my dear."

* * *

"Erik?" Christine called out, closing and locking the door behind her. She was a bit bewildered when she heard no response, but it took her longer than it probably should have to realize that the shower was going. "Lucas, is there any security in this room?"

"No, but I'd keep it down anyway. There are cameras in the hall and guards outside. If you need to talk about the mission, close the windows and lock the balcony door, you don't want them to hear you."

Christine nodded, hurriedly closing all the windows. That would probably make it a bit stuffy in the room, but it was infinitely better than being caught. She dreaded the thought of being discovered, especially with how much Jane seemed to trust her. She hadn't the slightest idea of what they would do to them, but she didn't exactly wish to find out, either.

The thick opening of a door disrupted her from her thoughts, and Christine wheeled around on her heel, only to be greeted by a half-naked Erik. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she gazed sheepishly at his strong, muscular body, achieved through his long, basically laborious years in Section, no doubt. He was covered only by a towel wrapped snuggly around his waist, and Christine watched mindlessly as tiny water droplets made their way down his chest, only to be swallowed by the towel.

_Jeez, Erik, you really have been holding out on me._

"How did it go?"

"What- oh, as well as it could have, I suppose." She shrugged, tearing her eyes from Erik's wet form.

She turned around to pull the coverlet down the bed, but she could hear Erik approach her from behind. As soon as the movement stopped, two arms slid around her waist from behind, and she leant back comfortably into Erik's large frame. "Is this real?" She whispered, still unsure of whether or not he was acting. She turned around in the embrace, her arms moving up to wrap around his neck.

"It is whatever you wish, Christine." He said, reaching out to gently pull the back off her earring. He pressed something- Christine didn't know what- and took his own communicator from his ear, repeating the process. He had turned them off; cutting the communication between them and the Section.

"You know you're going to get in huge trouble for that."

Erik shrugged before catching her chin in his hand to bring her face closer. His tongue darted out, playfully teasing at her bottom lip, and he was delighted with the exquisite response he received from her. "I'll cross that bridge later. Tonight is just for us."


	15. Trouble

_Hi guys! I'm so sorry this took me so long to get out! I had written five different versions of this chapter, and wasn't satisfied with any of them. So, this is just a combination of little bits from all five, haha. For those reading 'her promise', um, I'm sorry to say but I don't think I'll be continuing it. At least, not right now. I really don't think I have the ability to pull that story off, so I'm sticking with this one (getting it finished), while working on another for the _ _Hannibal__ fandom. Thanks for reading, and I hope you guys enjoy this one. _

* * *

"Erik!" Christine giggled as Erik's arms wrapped about her snugly. "Seriously, we will get in trouble!" 

"We will get in trouble," he playfully mocked, "Christine, there's nothing they can do-"

"Yes, there's nothing they can do to _you_. They can easily throw me in abeyance-"

Erik sighed, releasing his grip on the girl to gently cup her face in his hands. "They can't do anything. I won't let them. If Operations mentions it, I'll take care of it. Okay?" He soothed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"Okay." Christine smiled, shyly.

"Okay." Erik turned away from her, scanning the room as if he was looking for something. "Aha!" He exclaimed, quickly retrieving a single red rose from the dresser.

_I can't believe I missed that._

"Here you go," he smiled, handing the rose to Christine.

Christine shook her head as she fingered the black velvet ribbon that was tied to perfection around the stem. "Erik," she laughed, "what's this for?"

"What kind of husband would I be if I didn't get my wife flowers every once in a while?" He asked, wrapping his arms back around Christine.

"The kind that's not really married," Christine chuckled, remembering how she had used a similar line on him only a few days ago. "You didn't have to do-"

He shushed her, pressing his index finger gently against her lips. "None of that." Erik told her quietly, before replacing his finger with his lips. Christine let her eyes slip shut, and she felt Erik gently twine his fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss.

She sighed as she pulled apart only briefly, reaching out to explore his skin with the tips of her fingers. Christine found the scar he had shown her before, and she lightly traced the darkened lines of it with her lips, before pressing a tender kiss to the warm skin just adjacent to it.

"There is something… something I need to tell you before, Christine…" his hands reached her wrists and he drew her to him, wrapping his arms protectively around her, lastly lacing his fingers once again through her golden curls. Christine stroked the smooth skin of his back, noticing at times the skin seemed broken and of a different texture. She was about to ask of it, but was interrupted as his soft, tender lips sought out hers briefly. "There's something you should know…"

"I only want to know what you want to tell me." She rasped, huskily.

His lips grazed her skin in slow, sensual kisses. When Erik finally looked up, he softly cooed, unsure of how to word what he wanted her to know. "I- before Section, I had been…"

A light banging on the other side of the door caused the two agents to pull away from one another with great reluctance. Christine cursed under her breath. "I'm sorry," she whispered to Erik.

_Great! This is just wonderful._

"Come in," Christine called out, trying her best to hide her disappointment, her tiny hands darting to aid Erik in straitening his robe.

"Are we decent?" It was Jane, opening the door slightly ajar, but not enough to see in the room.

"Yes, yes, we are fine."

"Ah. Scott and I have started a fire in the back, you both are invited to join us if you'd like. Nothing special, just a silly old thing we do from time to time." Jane happily informed the disheveled couple.

"Thank you, but-"

"Sure, we'd love to." Christine smiled at Jane, stepping close to Erik to wrap her arms around his torso.

Erik sighed. "If it would make you happy." He stroked his hand through her golden curls. "We'll be down in a few minutes."

"Great." With that, the door was closed and Erik and Christine we left alone once more.

Christine caught Erik's gaze for a moment, it was evident that he was a little more than disappointed… or annoyed, rather, that they had been interrupted. She couldn't deny she felt the same. But, either way, she wanted the mission to be over with. She'd feel much better discussing these… matters within the safety of her own…

_Well, just somewhere more safe than here._

"We have to get what we came in for." She sighed, placing her hand on his cheek. She smiled as he turned his head to kiss her palm.

"I know that."

Christine pursed her lips. "I just, I want to get this assignment over with. This is something very personal to you. It would probably be much easier without having to constantly think about taking a bullet."

"Yes," Erik agreed. She was right. It would be much easier to just wait until the assignment was over. "If they trust us, we can get in the study sooner to find the vials. More easily…"

"Yes. And if we're outside with them, we can become more familiar with the grounds, without being suspicious."

Erik held out his hand to help her from the bed. "It's your show, girl."

* * *

When Christine and Erik finally joined the older couple, it was plainly obvious that the Billers had had just a little too much to drink. While Christine tried to begin a conversation with them, she eventually gave up after a while. She sat un-amused beside Erik, leaning on him gently for support. Her eyes were beginning to get heavy, and she looked about ready to doze off. 

Erik pulled the blanket more snugly around Christine's body as the fire died down, along with the noise. He looked at her for a moment, before turning his attention back to the dancing amber flames. Scott and Jane were paying them no heed, and he could hear Christine begin to snore softly. He would have to admit, he would have never pictured Christine to snore, but it had strangely become quite endearing. He ran one hand though her hair before gently pressing his lips to her temple.

"Scott, no, stop," Jane giggled, struggling playfully with her husband. Erik shook his head, returning his gaze to the small, sleeping woman curled next to him. A faint smile adorned her face, and Erik leaned closer to her to whisper in her ear despite her state.

"You're beautiful," he murmured fondly into her golden curls, "You smile, even in your sleep, it's beautiful."

"Yes, she is beautiful." Jane sighed, catching Erik by surprise. "It is hard to believe she has been absent in my life for so long," the woman slurred her words, but Erik still could understand her perfectly. "I would have given anything to have watched her grow up. To have watched her blossom into the beautiful young woman she is now." Jane closed her eyes, holding her husbands hand tightly in her own. "You take good care of her, Erik."

Erik was silent for a moment, studying the woman through the flames of the bonfire. He wet his lips before offering his reply. "I will." He said, truthfully.

Christine's eyes flew open then, and she smiled to herself, thankful that her face was pressed lightly against Erik's chest. She didn't want Jane or Erik to know she heard that.

"Good, that is good."

"Erik, so, tell me," Scott sat up straight, running one hand through his thick, dark hair. "How is Operations doing these days?"

* * *

"Nadir! Nadir!" Lucas ran, urgently scanning the hallways for his supervisor. 

"What? Catch your breath, kid."

Lucas inhaled deeply as he tried to calm himself. "I think we need to evacuate."

"Why?"

"There's been an intrusion on the directory," his words were rushed and urgent, "someone from the Plague has been accessing it with some regularity."

"Who's files?" Nadir demanded, as the boy's mouth opened and closed like a scared fish.

"Erik and Christine's… I think- I think they know that Erik and Christine are with Section."

Nadir cursed under his breath. "They're going to torture the location out of them. We're going to have to transfer to a substation. Send out the order, I'll tell Operations."

"That's not all of it. The intruder was a level five Section operative…"

"That's impossible," Nadir snapped. "Erik is the only agent on level five here…"

"He _is. _But he wasn't_ always _the only level five op."

Nadir paled visibly, and his hands began a slight tremble. He mouthed a name, and closed his eyes as the boy nodded. "Get Operations, now."

* * *

_Oh, boo, not enough fluff. Don't worry; there will be lots of drama and fluff and other stuff in the next few chapters. And I'm sorry that this was such a short one. I hope it wasn't too disappointing. The next one will be up soon. Very soon. _


	16. Pain

**A/N: **_Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I really, really appreciate them, and I'm really happy there are people still reading. Here's kind of an intense chapter, I have to warn you there are __**mentions **of torture, though I don't think it's anything to warrant bumping the rating (well, if you disagree, please tell me. Oh, and there's one f word that I was really scared to use because I abhor cussing, but using asterisks really didn't work in story format, heh. But that's it, you have my word!!). And yes, this chapter will probably open up a huge amount of questions but they'll be answered in the following chaps!_

* * *

The thick, unusual silence of Section One's expansive central hub was broken as a dozen armed 'Plague' agents flooded the empty area. They were obviously not expecting to find the Section already completely evacuated, as was evident by multitude of disappointed moans and frustrated grunts. The leader of the group stepped forward, hastily surveying the deserted hall. 

"Well, what are you waiting for? Look for anything or anyone that might have been left behind," the tall, intimidating man barked, causing the group to hurriedly split into several directions in the maze-like facility. He then pressed a button on his wrist communication device, and waited for the light to glow a soft blue before speaking into it. "Sir, we have a slight problem. Section One has already been evacuated."

"What do you mean 'they've already evacuated'? We left no trial, they could not have known we were so close," Came the angry, unforgiving voice of the evil head of the Plague. "Someone must have made a mistake. I will make sure they pay for it."

Swallowing nervously, the agent wet his lips with his tongue before replying. "I don't know how they found out, but they did. What are your new orders, Sir?"

There was a brief silence on the other end as the possible actions were considered. Finally, "They've transferred their base to a substation."

"Yes, where is tha-"

"I don't know. But surely Erik Vachon does, we'll obtain it from him."

"But, they were caught before the Section transferred, they can't possibly know-"

"Do not question me, you incompetent fool. If you had arrived sooner, we could have avoided all this. Erik Vachon is level five, do you really think they wouldn't have informed him of the substation in advance? Of course he knows, and we'll take whatever measures are required to find out. Pull your men out, wait for my command."

* * *

"Christine? Christine?" Lucas sat, as usual, hunched over the computer screen, anxiously awaiting word from Christine or Erik. He wanted to know that they were okay, but so far he received nothing for his efforts. 

"Still nothing?" Nadir approached softly from behind, causing the young boy to jump slightly.

"No," he sighed, almost defeated. "Nothing. I can't even get a signal; they're completely off my radar. Even if they have been found out, I still should get a signal. Anything."

Nadir chewed the inside of his lip thoughtfully. "It's possible that they are underground somewhere, the communicators sometimes don't work underground. We're going to have to report that soon."

"Soon, not now, or Operations will have our head on a silver platter. Anyway, something's bothering me, I don't think that it… usually, we would get something."

Nadir pulled up a chair, "Well, check the history." He suggested, watching as it was brought up on the screen. "When was the last time you had contact with them?"

"I don't know, I talked to Christine for a moment before everything else went wrong…"

"Where was she?"

"I don't know- in the- oh, oh, oh-" the last 'oh' was dragged a little bit long as if for dramatic effect. "They were in the bedroom. Together. Alone. You don't think they were-"

"Stop right there. If that's true, and this fucks up more than it has already, they'll be cancelled."

"I know."

Nadir shot the boy a cold, reprimanding look. "You can't tell a soul, Operations can not ever know about this."

"I know. What are we gonna do?"

"Stick with the underground alibi if Operations asks about why we can't get a hold of Erik and Christine. Red team is going to the Biller's estate; the samples are top priority right now. You have to go too-"

"Me? Why?" The boy whined, getting up from his chair clumsily.

"Stop complaining, you'll just be in the van giving the orders, you don't actually have to leave it."

"Do you remember the last time _I _went in the van with the team. I basically blew it. What'll you be doing?"

"What do you think?" Nadir snapped, although he really didn't mean it. "I'll be taking care of everything else that's gone wrong."

* * *

His vision drifted in and out of focus, partially obscured by his dark hair which flopped limply into his eyes, as well as the thin rivulets of crimson blood procured by one of the seemingly endless tortures he was made to suffer for a cause he wasn't quite sure he believed in anymore. 

Erik was no stranger to torture; in fact, he could almost say he'd grown accustomed to it in his line of… business. It never frightened him, and he never cracked. However, there was a card the enemy could play now which could ensure his surrender. There was a card that could be played, and used to defeat him. And that card was Christine.

How much longer would it take these two sorry excuses for human beings to realize that Erik was not going to crack under physical torture? How close to death did he have to be before they realized they would get nothing? Would it occur to them to use _her?_

He hoped it wouldn't. But, the 'Black Plague' was infamous for a reason. They weren't stupid.

Cold, iron chains bit into his wrists as his arms were brutally wrenched upwards. He almost didn't notice the pain; it had all dulled into one miserable ache. Cold water was sprayed on him, and the slightly less merciful of the two held up a pair of devices that strangely resembled defillibrators.

_Uh oh, this can't be good._

The other man, shorter and more lean, slow stepped in front of Erik, his footsteps even and well announced. "You may think, Mr. Vachon," his accent was strong, his voice was thick. "You may think that I am the 'good' cop, and my accomplice here is the 'bad' cop. However, this is not the case. We are both the 'good' cops. The 'bad' cop is waiting just outside the door, and he will make you wish you were dead."

Erik attempted a chuckle, but achieved only a miserable cough instead. "Bring him in."

The man smiled, obviously amused at the captive's reaction. He clearly believed Erik was either very brave or very stupid. Possibly a mixture of both. Finally, "very well."

Erik watched their retreating forms closely, bracing himself for what was to come. It was no secret he had little strength left, but he knew better than to give out the location. His only worry was for Christine…

With all the necessary suspense of a cheesy horror film, a dark and brooding figure entered the room and slowly approached Erik's bound, broken, and bleeding form. "Agent Vachon," the sinister voice greeted.

"Daae." Erik gulped, feeling a slight bit of discomfort and fear at the knowledge that Christine's traitor of a father was still alive. Perhaps, however, the most terrifying thought of all was that he was now at the mercy of him. And unfortunately for Erik mercy had never particularly been one of Charles Daae's strongest assets.


	17. Daddy

_**AN: **Haha, I'm glad most people didn't seem to see that one coming. I wonder if you'll predict the next one that will be revealed in the next chapter. I have to say I loved writing this chapter; it's so La Femme Nikita. It's way more fun to write a strong, sassy Christine than a meek, naïve Webber Christine. Oh, and kudos to anyone who can point out the Reservoir Dogs reference. Happy reading._

* * *

_"There you are!" A cheerful voice rang from behind, as the owner latched onto Christine's arm. "How'd you like it?"_

_"It was good, I enjoyed it. Thanks for taking me."_

_"No problem! I liked it too, although, I have to say I liked it maybe a bit better the first time I saw it; I think the actors were better. Well, at least the lead guy was hot. That counts for a lot. Anyway, we should do this more often."_

_Christine chuckled lightly and nodded, "yeah, if we can afford it, that's expensive."_

_"Oh, please, your dad can afford anything."_

_"I know," Christine sighed, "sometimes I wonder where he gets all of it…"_

_"Hey, not that it's something to complain about, right?"_

_"Of course not. It's just sometimes I feel he hides things from me." Christine told her friend honestly, as the walked together with Raoul trailing behind._

_"Well, every family has its secrets." Stephanie offered, before she turned around to face Raoul, "Hey, can you meet us at the car… I need to talk to Christine alone for a moment."_

_Raoul nodded, "sure."_

_"Thanks." She smiled as she watched him walk on ahead._

_"Christine, I've been meaning to tell you something." She said, taking her friends hand in hers. Christine would have later commented on how overdramatic the gesture was, but knowing her friend… well, it wasn't strange._

_"Uh, oh, this sounds serious. Are you pregnant?"_

_"No!" Stephanie laughed, playfully slapping her friend's arm. "No, I wanted to tell you that…"_

_"What?"_

_"Well…"_

_"Spit it out!"_

_"Okay, okay." Stephanie sighed, biting her lip before continuing. "Um, I'm kind of… going out with Raoul now._

_Christine inhaled deeply, placing a small but not entirely happy smile on her face. "Okay…"_

_"I know you guys were dating for a long time, and had a kind of rough break up, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it."_

_"Why wouldn't I be okay with it? I'm fine." Stephanie shot her a disbelieving look. "Really. I don't mind that you two are dating."_

_"You sure?"_

_"Positive."_

_"Okay, thanks." Stephanie replied, giving her friend a warm hug. "I'm so glad you don't mind. I didn't want to hide it from you."_

_Christine nodded, not saying a word as her heart seemed to break all over again. She still cared very much for Raoul and remained friends with him, but seeing or imagining him intimate with any female other than herself never failed to make her jealous. _

_"Well," Stephanie began, breaking the silence, "did you want to come with us back to my place?"_

_"No thanks, I'm kind of tired; I think I'm going to go home. It's not a long walk."_

_"Okay, well, call me when you get in so I know you got home safe, okay?"_

_"Sure, see ya Steph." She reached over and enveloped her friend in another warm hug._

_"See ya."_

_It wasn't a long walk back home, perhaps ten to fifteen minutes. However, her house was a bit isolated, and she always got uneasy walking the country road that led to her driveway. Well, most of the times it was less nerve-wracking, it was usually always during the daytime, or she had her car. This time, it was at night, and she was a young, pretty girl walking on a deserted path alone._

_Christine would later curse herself for her stupidity._

_As the feeling of someone following her overwhelmed her greatly, Christine sped up her pace. Her breath quickened and she cussed out loud as she tripped on her heels. She felt a body from behind yank her to her feet and grasp a handful of her curls as a rag was held before her face, close enough so she could smell it._

_"I believe you know what this is, sweetheart." The deep voice from behind told her before pressing it against her mouth. Christine struggled for a moment, but it was too late. She could feel herself getting weaker…_

_The last thing she saw before blacking out was her aggressor himself being attacked by a stealthy man dressed fully in black. Christine could recall the man picking her up and protectively holding her in his arms, and the next thing she could remember after that was waking up in her own bed, as if nothing had ever happened. _

* * *

"Let me out! So help me, if you don't let me out, I'll-" Christine banged her fists against the square bars of her cage, ignoring the red marks that gradually began to form. She couldn't recall how long she had been in there for; it could have been hours or just as easily minutes. Christine had already searched for any weakness in the bars, but her search came up empty. It was well designed and crafted; escape wasn't going to be as easy this time. 

Inhaling deeply, Christine took in her surroundings; surveying the area carefully. It was dark, and appeared to be some sort of warehouse made of scrap metal. There was a large area directly in front of her, and a staircase leading to the lower levels to her right. However, what possibly disturbed her the most was the fact that the cage she in was suspended by a hook in the ceiling, constantly reminding Christine of her pre-Section fear of heights. While she was on the same level as the floor; if someone was to stand in front of her she'd see them eye to eye, but there was nothing but thick air below the steel floor of the cage.

_Got to give these guys credit, they certainly can set the mood._

Christine sat down after a while; shivering slightly as her little prison rocked back and forth. She kept herself quiet, attentively listening to whatever sounds could be heard. She was listening for Erik; but she couldn't hear him, or anyone for that fact. Christine hadn't heard or seen anyone since she woke up after that dream… and strangely, she wasn't afraid. She thought she would be, but she was _baffled _that she wasn't shaking in fear.

_A lot happens in a few years. Circumstances change us. What we would have been afraid of doesn't scare us anymore._

A metal clinging sound brought her from her thoughts and her head snapped up as she looked for the source of the sound. "Hello?"

"Ah… Miss Daae, you're awake."

Christine quickly got up to her feet as she watched Scott Biller ascend the steel set of stairs; each of his footsteps were announced and evenly paced for effect. Christine sighed, lacing her fingers though the squared bars.

"I've been for quite sometime, actually. Surprised you hadn't heard me," she chuckled, though inside she hoped she wouldn't have to pay for her haughtiness.

"Actually, my dear, I've been a bit pre occupied with your friend."

_Erik…_

Christine clutched the bars tighter, her hands visibly paling. "Where is he?"

"Teetering on the edge of death-"

"Cut the melodramatic bullshit," Christine uncharacteristically hissed out, her two years of training in Section One shining brightly through. "Where is he?"

"Don't worry, they're done with him, so he'll be out here soon. We have one of those for him too," the man said, pointing to the hanging cage next to her own that she had failed to notice. "You can make this easier on him you know."

Christine drew in short breaths through clenched teeth. "How?"

"Tell me the location of the substation."

"The substation?" Christine asked, confused.

"Yes. Section One's substation." He repeated, bitterly.

"I don't know where it is."

"Then Erik Vachon will-"

"You think if there was anyway I knew, I'd keep it a secret? I have no loyalties to Section One, and Erik won't crack under torture. I have nothing to tell you, Mr. Biller. And you can torture me all you'd like; I'd tell ya I started the god damn Chicago fire if I had to." She let go of the bars then, crossing her arms over her chest. While she appeared calm and collected on the outside, her heart was racing uncontrollably.

_Oh, God, Erik… please hold on. No matter what happens, please hold on! I can't loose you._

"Unfortunately, we can't do that, as much as my wife would like to for what you did to her, you little twit."

Christine deliberately ignored his insult as she took in what he said in the beginning.

_They can't torture me._

"Why?"

There was a thick, eerie silence before her question was answered, but not by the man standing in front of her. It was the man standing behind her, who spoke up. "Because, my men are not allowed to harm my daughter."

"Dad…?"

* * *

Raoul led his team to the door of the study which Operations believed the samples to be stored. He turned on his comm. unit, waiting for Lucas' response. "One second," Lucas' voice rang out, and a faint typing sound could be heard over the line. 

"I don't know how much time we have left before they come…" Raoul hissed in an attempt to hurry the hacker.

"There's no activity around you, so please stop saying words while I crack their security system, please thanks. It's much appreciated." There was a silence for about twenty seconds before Lucas spoke up again. "192174."

"Not four digits?" Raoul asked while punching in the numbers.

"No. Don't screw up, you press one wrong button and the alarm is activated."

"Understood." He waited for the tiny red light to turn green before barging in with his team. "Okay, where is this thing?"

"How am I supposed to know? Just find them, or don't bother coming back."

"That would be nice." Raoul muttered to himself after he instructed his team to search, taking up the task himself as well.

"Of course, you'd be killed if you tried that, but no pressure."

The study was quickly becoming one large mess as the six agents searched persistently for the deadly vials.

Finally, "found it!" a woman operative called. She held a small, expensive looking box in her hands. She gave it to Raoul, who in turn opened it slowly.

"Lucas, they're gone."

* * *

Nadir stood in Operations' office, well, makeshift office to be exact, his hands clasped together nervously. 

"What do you mean they're gone?" Operations snapped, turning to face him.

"Luc just reported back; the vials aren't in the Biller's home." Nadir replied, determined not to be shaken.

Neither of the men spoke for a while, both thinking up possibly solutions for all the problems they appeared to be having recently. "Of course they wouldn't be there… they must have taken them to their base, along with Christine and Erik."

"What do we do now, sir?"

"Nothing. We wait."

"For?"

"Sooner or later they'll come here to find us."

"How?" Nadir interjected, though not wisely.

"Both Christine and Erik are aware of the substations." He said simply.

Nadir's brows furrowed in confusion. "How? How could Christine know…"

"I had a little talk with Miss Daae before she left for the mission. We'll just say she's aware of some things that only I am aware of. Now, please, let's get on with it. Get Michael to assemble every last agent… when the Black Plague comes, they'll walk straight into an ambush."

* * *

"Dad… how?" Christine whimpered, the hard façade she just possessed a moment ago breaking down in an instant. She felt tears begin to form in her eyes, and she had to blink to keep them from falling. 

"Shh, Christine, it's alright," Charles Daae replied, his heart softening at the sight of his daughter close to tears. As far as he was concerned, she had been like that far too long because of the rash decisions made by Section One, and it was time that they paid. Although, that was certainly not the only cause for his hatred of the Section.

"Dad… I thought you were…"

"I know." He said, slowly walking closer to the cage. "It'll be alright now, I am here, and you'll be okay."

"Dad-"

"Not now, Christine. Right now we have other matters to discuss."

Christine gripped the bars of the cage, rage overwhelming her that he would get straight into business, completely ignoring the fact that he was dead to her for the past three years. "Let me out of here, Dad."

"I can't Christine, I'm sorry. I do not trust you."

"Daddy!" Christine sobbed, "it's me."

"Yes, my dear." He soothed, reaching through the tiny opening of the cage to stroke her cheek with his index finger. "I know. But you have also been brainwashed by Section One for the past two years, I'm sorry."

Christine hastily stepped back, almost tripping. She backed up into the cage, wanting to get as far away from him as she could. "What do you want?"

"I want the substation, Christine."

"I don't know where it is!" She practically screamed.

Charles looked to his side, "Scott, please excuse us."

"Yes, sir."

In a moment they were left alone, the only sound being Christine's sobs and sniffles. Charles sighed. "You could find out."

Christine was trembling visibly, she shook her head. "No…"

"We couldn't break Erik. Yes, his state is very dangerous, and I am sorry but he _is_ close to death, but you could get it from him. You could break him."

"No… I can't… I can't betray him like that. He'll hate me. The Section has been his entire life... it's what is safe for him. I won't do it."

"Christine, we have doctors here that perform miracles everyday. If you get him to tell you, we'll save him. He can 'work' here, you'll find it isn't much different. And then, you and I could be a family again."

"Isn't much different! You're the head of a terrorist organization, father! It's completely different!"

After Christine screamed those words to her father, both were silent for a long time. She sat down, huddling in the right corner of the cage, ignoring it as it rocked back and forth.

"Tick tock, Christine. Erik doesn't have much time left; you're the only one who can save him."

"Fine. I'll do it."

"That's my girl."


	18. Truths

"I know this is difficult for you, Christine. It is difficult for me as well." Charles said, in an attempt to sympathize with his daughter, but only managing to anger her.

Christine laughed mockingly. "Difficult for you? Hah. Not nearly, father. But, then I suppose it isn't easy for a man to beat his daughter's love almost to death. I'll have you know-" she swallowed, looking downwards. "I'm not doing this for you. I don't want anything to do with you. I'm saving him. I know you would not be hesitant to kill him."

"And how do you know this, Christine?"

She shrugged, her attention drawn away from the man in front of her as the sounds of a group of men grew louder. "Operations told me."

"Operations told you?"

"Yes. I didn't believe it at first; I didn't want to believe it at first. But, I think he was right. The moment your men bring Erik in here- broken, as Mr. Biller said he would be- I'll believe it." Christine approached the bars again, looking her father straight in the eye. "It'll make it that much easier for me to hate you when this is over."

Judging by outward appearances, it did not look as if Charles was fazed by his daughter's declaration. "What else has Operations told you, Christine?"

Christine said nothing; merely staring at the man she had once considered her father. She didn't know how someone she had once loved so strongly could be so… heartless. No, he wasn't her father. She had no father.

She could tell they were getting closer, the loud steps of the obedient minions and the faint sounds of someone struggling and weak grew louder. "He told me the truth." She whispered, before turning to the right, squinting to recognize the limp finger soaked in crimson red.

_Oh my God…_

"Erik!"

Her piercing shriek caused Charles to step back and place a hand over his ears as he watched Christine go from calm to hysteric in a matter of moments.

* * *

"Let him go! Please… please, oh God, please don't hurt him," she begged between sobs, as Erik was thrown none-too-gently into the cage beside her own. There was a good foot and a half separating them, and Christine cursed under her breath, knowing she would not be able to help him. 

Christine dropped to her knees, roaming her eyes over Erik's still form as she tried to get an idea of how deep his wounds were. She could tell that bits and pieces of his prosthetic was coming off, it almost looked as if someone had attempted to peel it off with a blade, exposing his actual face.

_Someone knew him. They must have known he wore a mask._

Glancing over quickly to her left, she saw that no one was there; Charles must have assumed she wouldn't have wanted an audience and respected that. Christine turned back to Erik's semi-conscious form. The rest of his face, what she could see under the bruises, was pale and his body was soaked. His lips were tinted a dull shade of blue, and when she sought out one of his hands, she noticed that it was trembling quite uncontrollably. The air itself was cool, which probably proved to only worsen his suffering. After seeing him in such a state, Christine believed they were trying to give him hypothermia.

"Erik?" she whispered, trying to press herself as close to the side of the cage as possible; as close to him as she could possibly be. "Erik?"

His bare chest heaved, but it looked as if he found it difficult to breathe. She saw many deep, angry red marks adorning his chest, as well as several paired patches of hand-sized dark, bruises. Thankfully, the gunshot wound he had taken to the shoulder while they both had attempted to escape had begun to clot finally, but it wouldn't surprise her if it had become infected.

_He needs a doctor. He needs to see medical or he won't live out the night._

"Erik… Erik, please… please, talk to me, say something," she pleaded softly. His only response was a barely audible moan. "Erik, please hold on. It'll be okay, I promise it'll be okay, just hold on a little longer."

Christine clumsily stood up, and grasped the bars tightly. "Charles," she yelled, the rage evident in her tone, "Charles, get your ass in here you sniveling-"

"Chris- Christine…"

Christine stood shocked, rooted in place as the tiny, broken voice from behind her sought quietly for her attention. She slowly turned around, and while all she could do was stand frozen in place, she watched as he gathered his strength and in awkward movements began to shift his wait from one side to the other, as much as he could in his state.

_What is he doing…?_

She dropped to her knees once more before slumping against the corner, watching heartbrokenly as his cage rocked back and forth, getting closer and closer to her own with each swing. It took three for the cages to collide, and Erik quickly slid his fingers through both sets of bars. Knowing he could not hold them together on his own, Christine reached up with her left hand and threaded her fingers through the wires just above their heads. With her other hand she slid her fingers over his, lightly caressing them. She was shocked at how cold they were. "Christine," he managed again, although it was barely above a whisper.

"Erik, please, save your strength…"

He closed his eyes, and although Christine didn't know for sure, she thought she saw him shake his head. "Christine, I- I have to," he coughed, a thin stream of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth, "I need to tell you this no…now, before it's too late…"

"Erik, you're going to be fine…"

"No," he said, loudly. It looked as if he was becoming frustrated with her interrupting, and so Christine decided to keep her mouth shut and let him speak. "I'm… I'm going to…" the pause, Christine guessed, was caused by his reluctance to say it, "d-die…"

_Erik, please don't talk like that._

"There are things you need to know…" he coughed again, "the substation is… if they hur-hurt you… tell them it's-"

Christine softly shushed him and tapped his fingers gently with her own. "I know where it is."

Erik nodded, and Christine was slightly surprised when he didn't ask how. "Okay," he began again, determined to tell her everything before it was too late. He wanted her to know, he didn't want her to live her life in Section, never knowing why she was there; never knowing her purpose. "Christine, I… when you were… sixteen… I started wa-watching you…"

"Under orders?"

"Yes," he nodded, wetting his cold lips with his tongue. He slurred and mumbled his words as he spoke, that Christine sometimes had difficulty understanding him. "Under Operat…orders. He didn't- didn't trust Charles… anymore… h-he wanted me to keep a close… close eye on you… pro-protect you…"

"I know," she softly cooed, but strengthened her grasp on his fingers in attempt to warm them. He was so cold…

Again, Erik didn't bother to ask why, he just continued as if she said nothing. "Charles… he's… the head of the Black Pla-" she heard a sob wreck his throat, and she saw him wince slightly, though she did not know the cause of it.

"What's wrong, Erik?"

"Not-nothing… he knew… he knew we were getting close, that we… suspected him of betraying us… and once he saw me he… care-carefully staged the accident… he needed to hide, and he wanted to take you with him… but we inter-intercepted, and you… you are here. Charles… he was once Section One…"

"The only other level five…"

"Yes, he… he was the only one at the time when you were born… in Sec-Section One to Operations and his wife…"

Christine drew in air through clenched teeth, although she was already told that. She didn't believe it at the time, just as she didn't want to believe that the man who raised her was essentially 'evil'. But, hearing Erik tell her confirmed it for her, and although she didn't like it, it was easier for her to accept now.

"A child shouldn't be… raised in the Section, and he knew that, and he trusted Charles enough to raise you," Erik's breathing became laboured, and Christine grasped his hand tighter.

"Don't leave me, Erik. I need you. I'm going to tell them where the substation is. I need to save you." She turned to her left again, but did not release her grasp on the cage nor her mentor. "Charles, come here you son of a bitch!"

"Christine, no… Christine, please listen to me. Christine, when the torture… when it was… unbearable… I thought I was going to crack… but I didn't…" she could tell he was getting weaker at the moment, but he pleaded with her to listen to him, and she didn't have the heart to say no. "Christine, I was born an empty shell. I am a monster," he told her with a clarity that broke her heart as he gestured towards his face. "I've loved… only once… only one woman, apart from you. Beatrix. And, Christine, when she died, I died as well."

Christine heard footsteps enter the room, but she paid them no heed as the man in front of her spoke from his heart. "Christine, I didn't crack because I thought... of you… you kept me going and you kept me strong. And although I," he continued, inhaling deeply, "Although I don't… know… what love is anymore, I know that the only… part, the only part of me that is not dead is you."

With those words, Erik shifted forward, lightly touching his lips to Christine's fingers in a tender kiss. He watched as a tear began to form in her eye and roll down her cheek, and he cursed his inability to wipe it away. His grasp on the cage loosened, and he pulled his hand out from under hers, causing their cages to become separated from each other once more.

The cages swayed for a moment or two in silence as their occupants watched Charles, Scott, and two other men ascend the staircase. "You know where they've relocated now, I assume?" Charles asked, getting straight to business.

"Yes," Christine answered, bitterly.

"Well?"

"Take him to medical first."

"No, I will listen now. Where's the substation, Christine?"

"Don't say a word, Christine," Erik interjected, weakly. "If you tell him now, Section's looking at a… forty…forty percent loss expectation, that's too many bodies that we're res-responsible for, Christine. It'll drop… dramatically in sixty minutes… just wait… just, a little longer."

"You don't have sixty minutes, Agent Vachon," Charles said simply, as Scott held up a 9mm, pointing it directly at Erik. "What's your answer, Christine?"

_What do I do? Oh, God, how can I risk so many lives just for one? They'll... they'll find a way to fix it. They can fix everything. I can't let them kill Erik._

Christine muttered something under her breath, "San Francisco," she said, though barely above a whisper.

"What was that?"

"No, Christine…"

"San Francisco! It's a hidden subbasement of an abandoned power plant by Potrero Hill in San Francisco," she sobbed, casting her eyes downwards.

Charles nodded to the two men, who Christine did not recognize, although Erik was very familiar. They opened his cage and swung his arms over each shoulder, carrying him out.

"Christine, I'm going to go and check that out. If I discover that you fed me inaccurate information, you will never see Mr. Vachon again. Do I make myself clear?"

Christine swallowed nervously and bit on her lower lip. "Yes."


	19. Decisions

_Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in a while, it's kind of hard to write a story when you've kind of lost your passion for that particular fandom… but I promise I__** will**__ finish this one. I had initially planned on a sequel, but I'm not sure I'm going to write it anymore… so, I'll finish this one up and then take my leave of Phantom (not forever, just temporary, heh). Again, 'Her Promise' just to let y'all know. Anyway, I'll hopefully get the next chapter of this up soon… (McMaster!!!) University is wonderful but keeps me a very busy girl. _

_And- one more thing… is anyone else noticing that is taking out entire chucks of writing when you're uploading a chapter? Well, it's been going on for a while, I suppose, but I guess I'm just really late in noticing that. I've went back and updated some of the chapters that were missing bits and pieces, though I can't tell you which ones, it was quite a long time ago. I don't think it'll interfere too much with the storyline, though. _

* * *

Shifting hastily over to the far end of her prison, Christine could vaguely see Erik's all but broken body being carried away. She cursed inwardly, and although she was not a religious girl, she breathed a short prayer for his safety. Christine didn't trust these people- she didn't trust that Erik would be okay if he didn't receive medical attention soon, and she didn't trust them to provide Erik with that. 

_Hang in there, Erik, just a little longer…_

Christine turned to watch Charles' retreating form with unforgiving eyes as he left her alone in order to check her story, but not before throwing a small, pin like object in her cage. She simply ignored it, however, and it wasn't until she heard him exit the room that she was able to release the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

And it was then that the vibrant lighting of a small television screen caught her eye and reeled her in. It was the images displayed back to her, however, that frightened her the most. The first little bit consisted of small clips of herself all thrown together like some personal Youtube video. There were images of her first years in Section, of her first day in Section… of her and Erik…

_They were taping all this… but how?..._

The next set of clips forced a strangled gasp from her throat herself in what she once thought was the 'privacy' of her own home. Her breathing became more fervent as the images became more and more risqué. Charles's voice ran over it in his own little commentary.

"Yes, this is the organization you work for, my dearest Christine," his voice was undoubtedly unfeeling, only managing to fuel her anger. "This is the organization you live to protect that invades you in such a way. If it makes you feel any better, they record every single one of their operatives at 'home', and not just to make sure you eat your vegetables and exercise daily. No, Christine, they are watching for something else. They don't trust you as I'm sure by now you don't trust me- they're looking for anything that might suggest you have less than honourable intentions, should we put it. Kind of reminds me of animals in zoo, don't you think? Anyone can watch." As his voice faded, Christine closed her eyes, clumsily wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Watch, Christine," Charles voice came up again, as if he knew when putting the video together that at that moment she wasn't.

Christine's head shot up, and she had to blink a few times to clear her eyes. She didn't want to watch anymore, but a part of her had to… she just wanted to know.

* * *

Charles stood stiffly behind Biller as the location Christine gave came up on the screen. Shades of redness indicated human activity, and it didn't take long to confirm that it was Section activity. 

"She was right. They're in the power plant." Scott broke the silence by stating the obvious, finally.

"Shh," Charles placed his finger against his mouth, straining to hear the gagging noises through the louder static of the small, hand held speaker.

"Who is that?"

"Christine. What she is seeing on that video is making her feel ill." He said, simply, quietly. He paused for a moment before continuing, "I'm just merely convincing her to change sides. She's predictable. She won't be behind Section One after seeing that." Charles smirked, listening to the faint cries of pure disgust that sounded from the speaker.

"What about Erik? Surely her allegiance with him would be more difficult to break."

"Tell them to do what they can for now." Biller nodded, repeating the demand into his wrist unit.

* * *

Christine moaned as she wiped the last bits of vomit from her mouth. Her chest heaved as she straightened herself up from her doubled-over position. She turned to the side, careful to avoid the grisly, horrific images that caused her to regurgitate. 

_I've got to get out of here… oh God, I think I'm going to be sick again…_

Rolling up her ruined pant leg, she fished for the thin piece of wire that Operations had given her just prior to the mission. She didn't understand why she would have needed it at the time, but she was, up until now, slowly becoming used to consistent ignorance. She cursed to herself under her breath, bending the wire in half and crouching down to lodge it in the bottom of the cage door. Christine turned away for a moment as the wire ignited, and she gently guided it along the bottom; effectively searing the bottom of the cage.

Christine winced in pain as the scorching heat that pressed against her fingers finally registered, and she quickly let go of it as soon as she finished. She cradled her hand in the other, careful not to touch the lightly charred skin as she examined the burn. The skin was reddened and splotchy, and Christine had to inhale deeply to take the pain as she carefully wrapped a ripped piece of clothing around it until she was able to treat it properly.

"Alright," she murmured, just before a tiny voice sounded from the screen. She snapped her head up, blinking a few times as she realized it was her on the screen- only about fifteen years younger.

It was Christmas morning, and Christine could instantly tell which one. "Daddy, look!" The little girl with the big blonde curls excitedly held up a tiny black kitten. Charles' voice laughed out from behind the camera.

"Stop it, stop it," Christine hissed, stretching her arms and kicking back her heel with less care than she had originally intended. When the bottom gave away, she instinctively grabbed onto the cage, hanging for the moment before she garnered the courage to let go and fall the rest of the distance.

Holding her breath, Christine leapt down and managed to land on her feet. Sighing, she lightly tip-toed across the warehouse, following the faint sounds of conspiring voices. Naturally, they grew eventually grew louder as she ventured closer, "they're vulnerable here, here, and here… we can leave now, but if we wait a few hours, the dark may provide us with some advantages…"

"No," the other voice belonging to Charles, disagreed sternly. Christine winced as she listened, trying her best to block out the entire situation with her father for now- at least until Erik was safe and then she could _afford _to think of it. "Time is their weakness," he went on, "not cover or darkness, leave now."

Christine kept close to the walls as she watched Scott leave the room, seemingly failing to notice her. After she was certain he was gone, she slowly approached the door, each step evenly paced and announced.

_I should have found a weapon. Fuck it, it's too late now._

Her hand grasped the knob and she turned it slowly, her jaw clenching as Charles came into full view. "You Section agents are resourceful as ever, I see." He gestured to her hand, but Christine ignored it, choosing to say nothing. It usually worked for Erik.

"So, what are you going to do now?" He asked of her, as he began to circle the desk in an attempt to get closer to her. Christine however, treaded in the same direction, clearly keeping her distance. "Answer me, Christine."

"I don't owe you anything," she hissed under her breath, her un-bandaged hand clenching into a tight fist.

"You're right. You owe me nothing. So, why then are you here?"

Christine raised her eyebrows at his question, but again she refused to answer. Instead she glanced over towards where the map of the substation had been laid out. "You told the truth, I hadn't expected you to, Christine."

"And what about you?" She snapped, moving over to the computer console next to the map. Her fingers danced over the touchpad for a moment, and she had to blink a few times to allow her eyes to adjust to the brightness of the screen. "Have you kept up your end of the bargain?"

"We're doing what we can."

"What you can…" Christine breathed, more to herself than to Charles, still keeping her eyes locked on the screen.

"We've already sent them out, if that's what you're looking for."

Christine paused, taping her fingers on the table. "It's three hours away," she said, simply.

"We'll be there in fifteen minutes. They're not prepared for the attack, are they? They're expecting it, but they're not prepared yet. Mr. Vachon said it would take an hour."

Christine gave an unenthusiastic shrug in response. "They had to relocate their entire base, I suppose it would take a little while to get settled." She finally looked back up to him again. "How'd you know where they placed the cameras in my room? How'd you even-"

"Christine, I was once a Section agent as well, everyone knows about the cameras. There's at least one in every room of your apartment. You supervisor usually oversees them if he must." He told her, in a very matter-of-factly tone.

"Why wasn't I informed of this?" She asked between clenched teeth.

"They know you better than you think they do. You would have taken a sledgehammer to the wall and ripped it apart until you found them."

Christine swallowed nervously, "has anyone watched them?"

"Not unless they suspected you of treason."

"I see."

There was a silence, a think, uneasy silence as both of them got lost in their endless thoughts. Christine was angry, in fact, she couldn't recall a moment in her life where she had been more furious. She couldn't recall a time where she had been so let down by the most important people in her life. She was angry at Erik; she was angry that he would hide so much from her. Although a part of her knew he would never have watched them, she was angry he didn't tell her of the cameras. She was furious at Charles and Operations, the hierarchy of their respective organizations; she was bitter that Charles, the man who raised her, would allow her to believe for more than two years that he was deceased, when he was alive and kicking, only on the 'other side'. She hated Operations for simply being her biological father, and more so for being so obviously ruthless that'd he'd even risk the life of his own flesh and blood. But most of all, she cursed herself for ever believing in the so-called _just_ cause Section one supposedly represented.

Christine closed her eyes, vividly recalling the images on the tape; the horrendous misdeeds of Section One. She remembered the faces of the numerous _children_ in the building, just prior to it being blown to pieces.

Christine knew then what she had to do. She'd destroy both the Plague, and the Section. And better yet, she knew just how to do it.


	20. Betrayer Betrayed

After setting the blow dryer and the round brush simultaneously back onto the marble countertop, Christine reached for the flat iron, turning it on to allow it to warm up. She fastened the towel more securely around her body as she left the washroom and entered the large, elegant bedroom Charles had given her use of. She hadn't expected a room such as this to be found in the old, steel warehouse, but it wasn't as if she was complaining. The hot shower had been a welcome relief after the day's events.

Drawing the large wardrobe open, Christine immediately frowned. "Black, everything's black." She complained quietly to herself, reaching in to search the gloomy wardrobe of a lighter shade. It took her a while, but she did manage to find a stylish white blouse. After quickly donning the top and a black skirt, she treaded back to the washroom to straighten her hair.

As Christine pulled the flat iron through her blow-dried blonde locks, she stole a short glance at her watch. It had been over a half an hour since the ambush would have occurred at the substation, and she could tell Charles was becoming anxious waiting for word from the team. She tried to tell him that the communication devices didn't work underground, but he angrily waved it off, stating that was beside the point. And it really was, she knew.

After hurriedly finishing up the last bit of hair, she sat down at her vanity and applied a darker shade of make-up to her light skin, focusing her attention primarily on her eyes for a more dramatic look than usual.

_Hey, it's now or never._

"Little Lotte let her mind wander." Christine jumped at the all-too-familiar words being spoken, turning around in her seat to find her father standing in the doorframe. "Little Lotte thought, 'Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or shoes…"

"Charles,"

"Or of riddles or frocks."

"I hardly believe this is the time for this."

"Or of chocolates."

Reminded of a time when life was so much simpler and lovelier, Christine allowed herself a short moment to remember the happiness of her youth. She was close to her father, yes she always was. And even though she now knew what he was, she still, a tiny part of her at least, still wanted a relationship with him. No, they could never be a family again, but he was always the one person she could confide in. Charles slowly walked over to her, placing a yellowed envelope on the vanity in front of her. They both said nothing for a moment, before Christine softly began to sing, a passion that they both shared, still. "No, what I love best Lotte said is when I'm asleep in my bed and the angel of music sings songs in my head. The angel of music sings songs in my head…"

"Inside the envelope is a letter written by your mother, twenty years ago I believe."

"I thought she died when I was born."

"No, she lived for two years after your birth. She gave this to me, for me to give to you. It was our secret."

Furrowing her brow, Christine took the envelope in her left hand. "How did she die?"

"I believe she'll tell you in that letter."

Christine gasped, "she knew she was going to die? And- and Operations, he knew as well?"

"Just, read it for yourself, Christine." Charles replied before turning on his heel and leaving her.

Christine set the applicator and the envelope down, running a hand lightly through her hair as she gave herself one last look in the mirror. She sighed, slipping on a pair of heels and grabbed her coat before returning to Charles, placing the envelope gently in her pocket on her way down.

* * *

"You look beautiful, my dear." Charles commented, upon seeing her approach. Christine smiled weakly; not wanting to trust him this soon, and at the same time she was surprised he trusted her. She hadn't expected him too, but she guessed he still took her for the young, reliant, naïve teenager she had been before the accident. She was about to open her mouth to reply, when two men in white clothing wheeled a medical bed out.

"Erik!" She called out, rushing over to his side. Her firm grip on the side of the bed insured no one moved it. "Erik?" She asked again, after garnering no response from him. At best, he looked cleaned up, but far from okay. Christine scrambled for his hand, realizing quite quickly it was still cold. "What are you doing?!?" She screamed at the paramedics, as she held Erik's hand in both of her own. "You're supposed to be raising his temperature! Father!"

Charles' head snapped up at the all-too-familiar endearment, unsure of whether it was intentional or not on Christine's part. "He'll be fine, Christine. We have to leave." He grabbed hold of her upper arm, prying her away from the unconscious man.

"You can't let him die. He can't die." Christine held back her tears, she couldn't allow him or anyone else here see them.

"Christine, I thought we had gone over this-" Charles began, his tone betraying his annoyance at the delay.

"I don't care! I'll think about that later, I just want him to be out of danger. Is that too much to ask?" She hissed between clenched teeth.

"He'll be fine. He's coming with us, anyway."

"But, the substation doesn't have a medical-"

Charles interjected her, gently urging her into the van. Christine took a seat on the opposite side of where he sat; crossing her legs and leaning back, clearly expecting an answer.

"It has a medical. He'll be fine."

"He's ice cold!"

"Christine."

Christine rolled her eyes and gave up, sighing as she bent to look over the blueprint on the table. "That's the substation."

"Yes."

"What exactly is it you plan on doing?" It was evident he had no intention to answer, yet his silence told her everything she needed to know. "You want to overthrow Operations. I don't know, Charles, I don't think a terrorist should head an anti-terrorist organization,"

"Just do everything according to plan and it'll work out. Erik will be fine, I'll be in power, and you'll be at my side. We can be a family again, Christine." He told her, reaching out to tuck the straightened lock behind her ear.

Christine took a step back. "I don't desire power, and I'm not quite sure I desire to be a family with you again, just know that."

"What do you desire?"

Biting her lip, Christine thought of it for a moment. What she wanted, more than anything, was to be free. She didn't want to hurt anyone, which would ultimately be inevitable should she continue to do what she set out to do. She didn't even really need anyone, she decided. Erik was just a fantasy, but… she could live without him. Christine could live without anyone, if only she could be free. "I want my freedom." She breathed, barely above a whisper.

"I can give you that; all I need is for you to help me. After this is all over, I can release you. You'll never hear anything of this again if you truly don't want to. Now, of course, you couldn't be in contact with anyone you knew previously, but you'd be 'free'." He put emphasis on the last word, but Christine wasn't sure if their ideas of what it meant to be free coincided.

"And Erik, he will be safe?"

"Yes."

"I have other requests as well."

"That is understandable. We will discuss it afterwards, but only after I get what I want. Do we have a deal, Christine?" He held out his hand, and Christine hesitated for a short moment.

But she shook it.

* * *

Christine watched, biting down on her lower lip in anxiety as a group of half a dozen armed men surrounded the entrance into the subbasement. She herself had led them there, the deal she made with her father weighing heavily upon her mind the whole time. It was supposed to be like this, she had to keep telling herself when she began to doubt. It was part of the profile; she was to gain Charles' trust, and he would follow her. Operations knew it would work, and it had. Once they entered through that large, steel door, it would be over in a mere matter of seconds, they'd be ambushed as soon as they all gathered inside.

_And then they'd all be cancelled. Including Charles, and any hope of mine to get out of here. _

"Close your eyes," her father said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Christine turned around, away from the bright light that resulted from the tool used to open the door.

_I can't- I just can't let them take my freedom away. He meant it, I know he did. I know he's evil- but in some strange, twisted way, he still is my father, isn't he? He raised me for twenty years- that just doesn't go away. Operations has never been there. Charles- he would give me all I asked for, whereas Operations would tell me to ask for something else. I- I think… I need to stop them from going in there- if they do, it's all over for me! I need to-I have to tell them about the other way in- the unprotected way Operations mentioned. Section- they… they wouldn't be expecting it. Section- they killed those people in the building. They say they take a stand for justice, but that doesn't mean they can kill ten to save eleven, does it? It's still not right. No, I can't go back there. If… dad holds true to his word, none of my friends will be hurt, and Erik will be fine… I'll be free. I don't belong here. Erik- he'd… he'd hate me, that's for sure. But I want out. I don't want to be here anymore. Yes, his companionship is a sacrifice, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for my freedom. _

Christine heard them pull out the door, and set it on the ground as gently and quietly as possible. She turned to Charles then, grasping his arm tightly. "Pull them back, it's a trap."

"Christine-"

"They're waiting for you. They know you're coming," Christine whispered, "pull them back. I know another way."

Gesturing for her to follow, Christine and Charles walked away from the group for a moment to speak privately. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I hadn't-"

"Planned on keeping your end of the bargain? You were leading us right into the ambush…"

Christine rolled her eyes, guilty. She looked away before answering with a short, simple, "yes."

"How can I trust you now?"

"I told you, didn't I? I want to get out of here, and if helping you is my only way out, I'm ready to deal with that now. If you enter the basement through that door, you'll be ambushed. It'll be over for you in seconds."

Charles walked away from her then, taking his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He dialed what Christine assumed to be an extension number, and spoke so quietly that even she couldn't hear what he was saying, despite having a trained ear and sharp hearing. The call did not last long, and he was back at her side in a moment. "If you're lying to me, Christine, Erik will die. I'm sorry."

"I'm not lying."

"Where are they vulnerable?"

"There's another way- there's two. Take the north passage; they'll have to go back up to get to it. They're not protected as much there… they'll-they'll get there fast, but you'll have a greater advantage than you would taking this entrance."

Gesturing his men to retrace their steps, he stood beside Christine until they were out of sight. He looked at her, warily. "I do hope you're right." As he went to follow, Christine stopped him by grasping his arm.

"Let them go. I can lead you, alone, right to Operations."

"A diversion?"

"Yes."

* * *

"Why aren't they coming?" Operations demanded, cutting through the silence as the agents held their position, waiting for the Black Plague to enter, and for the battle to be over with once and for all. "Nadir!"

"I don't know, they were just here a few minutes ago," Nadir said, marching back to his computer to pull up a simulation of the train station.

"Get Michael and Sykes to go check it out. Something isn't right."

Again, all was silent as it once had been only moment's earlier, save for the frantic pacing of Operations as they awaited word.

"Sir! Sir!" Nadir jumped up from his seat, "they're coming from the north passage. How would they even know about that?"

"It doesn't matter right now. How many of them are there?"

"Two dozen, maybe three. I think they have another back-up off-site."

"I want the third team to stay where they are, send the rest to the northern passageway."

"Yes, Sir," Nadir replied, repeating the orders hurriedly into his microphone.

"It won't do you any good; you'll be overrun in just a few moments, Greg."

Operations blinked slowly, taking in air through clenched teeth. He turned his head to see his former colleague, his current enemy with a menacing 9mm in hand. He licked his lips before speaking, "Charles." Christine stepped out behind him, and it took the head of Section One a few moments to recognize her on account of the straight, blonde hair and unusual amount of make-up. "Christine, well, this certainly is a surprise. It certainly wasn't a part of the profile," Operations stated calmly, eyeing the girl, disappointment clearly evident in his gaze.

"No, it wasn't." She agreed, though trying not to let her voice slip.

_But, it's for the best. It has to be._

"Nadir, would you please leave us?"

"Sir…"

Operations turned towards the communications specialist. "Leave us, Nadir."

"Yes, Sir."

They waited until hearing the door slide closed before anyone of them spoke up. "After all I told you about him, Christine, about what he does and you still side with him."

"He offered me my freedom-"

"In exchange for what, exactly?"

Christine watched suspiciously as Operations seemed to steal glances at something behind her. She turned around for a short moment, but seeing there was nothing there, she dismissed it. Although, she still found it a bit odd.

Charles sighed, "What else, Greg? In exchange for the Section. I couldn't believe when I found out just how much resources you actually have. How you managed that is well beyond me."

Operations glanced past Christine once more, causing her to furrow her brow in confusion. "I gave my life to this place, Daae."

"You gave a lot of people's lives to this place." Christine interjected, moments before a cry tore from her throat as she was pulled roughly against a body behind her. An iron-like hand pinned her own hands together, and the breath was forced from her lungs as a sharp object was placed against her throat. Christine struggled for a moment futilely, but there was no way to safely dislodge the knife from where it was held. As she calmed and began to breathe deeply, the man released his hold on her wrists to wrap his arm around her waist, and it was only then that Christine realized how cold his hands were.


	21. End Game

_This is a shorter chapter, but it's important. There's only about one or two left. I've tried to make the characters a little bit more like themselves- particularly Raoul, who I do believe I was unfair to.

* * *

_

"Erik- what are you doing?" Christine inquired nervously, not daring to move an inch. The blade hovered dangerously close to her neck. Before this moment, she never thought Erik would ever hurt her, but right now- she wasn't all too sure. He was an agent first and foremost, and perhaps their relationship wasn't as strong as she thought it had been. Perhaps she meant nothing more to him than anyone else here.

Erik ignored her, instead choosing to address Charles. "Drop the gun, Daae."

Charles shifted slightly, but did not lower his weapon. "You're bluffing, Erik."

"Am I?" He asked haughtily, as he tightened his grip on Christine's waist.

"You really think I am that naïve to believe that?" Charles asked, still not making any move to lower his weapon.

Operations cleared his throat, but typically did not show any fear. "The Section comes before all of us, Charles, you especially should know this," he calmly told the former level five agent.

_Oh, great, my own flesh and blood just gave Erik permission to kill me if needs be. I'm glad I mean so much to the both of them. _

"You'd let that miserable son of a bitch kill her, Greg? I guess that wouldn't surprise me, seeing as you nothing less than signed Madeleine's death warrant," Charles paused, turning his head slightly towards Erik and Christine, although he could not see them. "And Beatrix's," he threw at Erik. Christine instantly knew he was trying to pit Erik up against Operations, but Erik's loyalties toward the older man and the Section were too strong to break despite all the wrongs that had befallen him.

A rough, broken sound rattled in his throat, and he opened his mouth to speak but the words died before he could form them properly. He licked his lips before whispering a small apology to Christine as he looked back towards Charles. "Ten seconds, Charles," came the threat, sounding almost forced from his mouth as if someone had threatened him to say it.

Christine stifled down a sob, closing her eyes tightly. This was it; this was the end. A loud, piercing gunshot rang out following by a loud, masculine grunt, and Christine swore she smelt blood almost immediately. A hand grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the chaos. After a moment or two, Christine gathered up the courage to open her eyes.

"Raoul!"

"Christine, are you alright," he asked, kneeling in front of her. He brought his hand to her neck, examining the small cut. It was barely more than a paper cut, thank goodness.

"I'm fine," Christine breathed, looking beyond him in an attempt to find out what happened. Charles' gun was still aimed at Operations, and they were discussing something between the two of them.

_Where's…oh, God!_

Erik was lying still on the ground, the hand that held the knife was freely bleeding. There was no cloth over his body from the waist up, and cuts and bruises marked his torso. His normal pale skin had a bluish hue to it, a testament to the torture he had survived for the past thirty hours.

"Erik!" Christine exclaimed, ignoring the fact that just moments ago he had threatened to kill her. She tried to go to his side, but Raoul reached out and grasped her arm in a tight hold.

"No, Christine…wait."

Everything was silent for a moment, save for the labored breathing of the occupants. Raoul raised his weapon then, aiming it towards Charles.

"Raoul, shoot him." Operations ordered.

"You don't want to be doing that," she hissed bitterly at Operations.

Operations only sighed. "Haven't you caused enough trouble already, Christine? Shoot him, Raoul."

Rising to her feet, Christine procured a small tape from her jacket pocket, and threw it as hard as she could at Operations', who caught it almost effortlessly. "I've exposed you. My father and I have thoroughly detailed just a handful of your killings. And we have proof, Operations. It's all right there. Any information anyone would ever need to find you, anywhere. Perhaps you remember the bombing of the Michael Degroote Centre, you should, you briefed a team on it. You got away with the murder of over a thousand people, and no one on the outside ever knew who was responsible. They'll know now, Operations, and you won't have time to run. I've made copies, and sent them to two large news programs in the country. If I don't interfere in fifteen minutes, they'll open them and broadcast it live."

Operations rolled his eyes, clearly exhibiting in dislike at being controlled. "And what is it you want, then, Christine?"

"My father alive, for starters. And, I want you to change the way you do things around here." She said, trying to appear more confidant than she actually felt. "There's far too much collateral damage, and there are people encountered on missions that we can help but instead turn a blind eye too. Enough is enough."

"Anything else?"

It did not take long for Christine to think of her answer to that. "Out. I want out."

"Ask for something else." He said, while maintaining his firm eye contact with his former colleague.

Christine cleared her throat before repeating herself. "Out. I want out."

Again, Operations did not turn from Charles to look at her. "I said; ask for something else."

"I want out," she hissed again.

"Not even I can grant you that, Christine."

"Well, who can?"

"That is extremely confidential."

Christine mockingly laughed, feeling tears about to form in her eyes. Her hands began to clench as she realized that her freedom was clearly not up for debate. She'd have to work around him to get what she wanted. "Raoul," she began, "please put down the gun."

"If you do, you'll be cancelled, de Chagny."

In a relatively uncharacteristic outburst of frustration, Christine stomped her foot down. "Thirteen minutes and this footage will be accessible worldwide."

Finally, it was Raoul that interjected, "Christine, even if he does promise you your freedom after you interfere, how do you know he'll keep his word? You can not leave first, you'd have to get the tracking chip out of your body, and the equipment is back at the base. Just make the call…"

"I want out," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.

"You can't have that. I'm willing to compensate with the rest, make the call."

Although surprised that her father had remained quiet through the entire ordeal, Christine didn't want to appear diffident or insecure about her decision. There would be other opportunities to get out, there had to be. Lucas could think of something. But for now, she wanted to protect her father. She wanted the Section to change, whether she was an operative or not; the ends does not always justify the means. Christine hesitantly flipped open her phone, slowly dialing the numbers and inserting the five digit code that would cut the deal.

_It's not over. There's another way. There has to be another way._

Without uttering another word, Christine looked from Operations to where Erik lay on the ground before turning on her heel and bolting out of the room in a fury.

* * *

"Christine!" a voice called out, and Christine abruptly stopped to turn and look at its owner.

"Lucas." She replied quietly, breathing deeply in an attempt to quiet herself as she enfolded the boy in a tight embrace. "I missed you. I'm happy to see you," Christine told him, and even though she meant it, her tone much too apathetic to sound sincere.

Lucas quickly dismissed it, "Well, good news is we've secured the substation."

"Already?"

"Mm hmm."

"But I thought-"

Lucas interjected, holding up his hand. "It didn't take long to cover."

Standing with her hands firmly placed on her hips, Christine looked to the ground; wondering whether or not the area had been unprotected in the first place.

_I wouldn't doubt it. It wouldn't be the first time you've been lied to here._

"Hey, you okay girl?"

Christine's head snapped up, "yes, why?"

"Please. I know when you get angry. You get right white and really quiet."

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"You're also a very unskilled liar."

Christine narrowed her eyes. "Really, Lucas. I'm going home."

Lucas watched as Christine made for the exit. "You sure that's safe?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we don't know where Jane is, but she knows where you live."

Christine looked upwards, shaking her head. She was so tired; she wanted nothing more than just to sleep for a few days straight. She didn't want to deal with any of this anymore. "I don't care," she said, finally.

"Well, at least go to my place until we know it's safe," Lucas fished through his pocket until he pulled out a set of keys. He threw them at her, more gently than he normally would, as it did not seem that she would put much effort into catching at the moment.

"Thanks, I-"

A loud shot fired had forced both their attention in the direction that Christine had just come from. Christine jumped, placing a hand over her heart. "No," she whispered to herself as she made her way back to Operation's office, unable to suppress her shaking as she feared the worst.

* * *

"No!" Christine screamed out, violently racing to her father's side. She bent over his body as it lay on the ground, pressing her hand over the wound in a futile attempt to stop the blood. It was no use calling out for help; this was what they all wanted, and no one dared go against Operations' will. It was all over for them; the 'bad guy' would be dead in a matter of moments. "Dad…" Christine cried out, giving her his hand as he sought it.

"I'm so-sorry, that you had to see this, Chris-" Charles coughed out a stream of crimson blood, and Christine gently wiped it away as best she could with the sleeve of her jacket. "You shouldn't have ever- I'm sor-sorry."

Christine grasped his hand tighter as his eyes began to close. Her tears were flowing freely, and she was nearly on the verge of hyperventilating. "I do- I love you, Christine," he told her, right before he took his last breath.

"No!" She screamed, her voice breaking, laced with her sorrow. "No, please, don't leave me here! Don't leave me! Not again, not again…" Her chest was heaving with her sobs as she bent over to kiss his cheek, the hot, sticky blood getting all over her body. "Not again," she repeated through her sobs.

Christine could hear footsteps walk by her, and even through her racked sobs she heard Operations' steady voice. "Call housekeeping. It's over now."


	22. Hard Landing

Setting the milk onto the glass coffee table, Christine laid herself down onto the ivory loveseat. With one hand she reached behind and gathered her hair to lay over the couch's arm so as it would not tug. Her curls, which were once a vibrant golden blonde, had seemed to have lost their shine and were now tangled. Of course, it didn't help that she hadn't bothered to comb it in quite some time.

It had been a few weeks since that night- that wretched night that took away her father for good. Christine had insisted they tell her how it was done; why it was done, considering Operations gave her his word that Charles would be kept alive. But, they never gave her an answer. They only said it was necessary, and no matter how much further she pressed, she received no additional information.

Christine hadn't been back to the Section since; they had not called her in for a mission. They did, however, throw her in abeyance. At first, Christine was initially shocked that Operations would sentence her to abeyance but considering she did almost expose the Section, she really shouldn't have been so surprised. It wasn't as if anyone was valued over the organization anyway.

Reaching towards the table, Christine picked up the remote and turned on the television. She was never one for channel surfing or watching movies, but she hadn't left her home for weeks, save for getting groceries, which was mainly done at night when she couldn't sleep. Scanning the list for a short moment, Christine absentmindedly chose one of the movies before setting the remote down again.

Before she even had a chance to focus on the images playing before her, a knock sounded behind the door, causing Christine to jump slightly. Walking quietly over to the open kitchen, Christine pulled a silencer from the cupboard just right of the sink. She didn't have visitors very often… and she still was expecting some kind of attack from Jane. Pressing a hand firmly against the door, Christine gazed into the peephole.

_Lucas…_

Rolling her eyes at her unnecessary paranoia, she tucked her weapon away and opened the door. "Hey," she said softly, stepping back to let him in.

"How are you holding up?"

Christine shrugged tiredly before shaking her head. "I don't know," she replied quietly, returning to where she sat on the sofa. She gestured for her friend to take a seat, before staring absentmindedly at the images before her.

Lucas turned his head towards the television. "Lord of the Rings?"

It took Christine a moment to register what he said, having not spoken to anyone in quite some time- least of all having a casual conversation. Without moving any part of her body but her mouth, she replied simply, "I think I like Legolas. He'd probably make a better companion than," she paused to grimace involuntarily, "Erik."

"Really? I'm partial to Frodo."

Christine gasped as she caught herself, "I cannot believe I said that. What's wrong with me? Why do I still think about him?"

"Legolas?"

Rolling her eyes, Christine turned to Lucas and slapped his arm playfully. "No, Erik."

"Oh, right, _him… _well, that's actually who I came to talk to you about. Well, that isn't true, it's not him in particular, just…"

Christine nodded knowingly. Clearing her throat, she braced herself for the news.

"Well, your abeyance mission is tomorrow."

Nearly doubling over, Christine could have sworn her heart just stopped. "They're actually going to go through with it then," she said, more to herself than to the younger operative. "They're actually going to kill me. I can't-", Christine let out a short sob as she grabbed hold of Lucas' hand. She felt tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I can't believe that… why…"

"You know why, the only thing that matters is the Section, and you threatened that," he said as softly as he could manage.

"I thought he had changed," Christine spat bitterly, rising from the loveseat to pace nervously across the living room of her apartment. "He told me he cared. He told me that-"

"Operations?"

"No… Erik. He said- he told me that I was the only part of him that was not dead. Back when we were in the cages… he told me he loved me. How can he-"

"He thinks you've threatened the one thing he's been living for- for fifteen years. Maybe he was afraid, I don't know. I don't think he can function without being in the Section," Lucas shrugged as he turned to face Christine.

"Don't say that," Christine whispered, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "It's not that he's not able to, I just doubt whether or not he actually wants to. Every time I tried to get him to talk to me… he just… I don't know, he never does. I think he's scared to open up to someone."

"Well, that might be true, but he did try to kill you, after all."

Christine's eyes visibly darkened and narrowed. "Don't remind me," she all but hissed.

"And he's coming here right now."

Stopping in her tracks, Christine turned quickly to Lucas. "What?"

"That's kind of what I came to talk to you about, and this was the only time I could. He's going to brief you on your abeyance mission personally, he should be here soon I suppose. But here, I have something that'll help you," Lucas said, taking out his personal laptop from his bag. Setting it gently on the glass coffee table as Christine sat down beside him; he lifted the top and turned it on. Christine watched in silence as he swiped his thumb down the side of his computer.

"What is it?"

"I'm showing you the mission."

"Isn't that what Erik's coming for?"

Lucas sighed, leaning back a little and pushing his thick, plastic-framed glasses further up the bridge of his freckled nose. "Yes, but I'm showing you what you can do to survive it. Only about six percent of operatives survive abeyance missions, and that's mainly because they've been able to familiarize themselves with the perimeter. I can transfer this to your panel, if you'd like. There's probably more information here than what Erik's going to show you. Well, what he is able to show you at the least. I'm sure he doesn't have a death wish for you or anything."

Choosing to ignore that last comment, Christine nodded and crossed the short distance over to her kitchen cabinets and pulled out the small, black-berry looking object. She set it down on the table before Lucas, who was quickly typing digits into the system. Gulping nervously, Christine ran a slender hand through her knotted hair. "Luc… is there anyway that, I don't know… that we can maybe just convince them I died during the mission? Is there any way we can stage that?"

"You want to stage your death?"

"Is that not what I just said?"

"I don't know how to do that! I can help you survive it and they can't touch you- but if you just do what you have to and pretend to die and they find you… alive, do you know how much trouble we'd both be in? Besides, you still have the tracker in you-"

"You can take it out, there's equipment for that."

He shook his head miserably, "I don't have access to that! Even if you did manage to trick them, they'd see your signal moving. It's too risky."

"I can use aluminum; it messes with the signal, right? Come on, Luc, it'll work," Christine pleaded with him.

"Yeah, it'd work if you planned on wearing an aluminum suit all the time. You take it off and you're back on the radar."

Christine sighed, "I can't do this anymore, Luc. I can't stand here and lie to people who are hurting... it's only a matter of time before I'm going to have to murder and I can't do that. I'm not like the rest of the people here.. I just want to leave."

_I'm not like Erik._

"Christine, there'll be opportunities for that later and I'll try to help you. At least for now, can you just help me keep you alive? Here, look at this," Lucas picked up the laptop and handed it to Christine who placed it in her lap and leaned back into the seat.

Sniffing, Christine wiped away a single tear. "What am I looking at?"

"It's a simulation of your parameter. The bomb will come from the North, you gotta be quick. If you're more familiar with the area it'll be easier. Where's the cable for this?"

Taking a short moment to look up, Christine pointed to the cabinet. "Sorry. Hey, what's this Luc?"

"What's what?"

"This small icon at the very top."

"Oh, no, don't click on that, Christine!"

"Why not?" Christine asked innocently, doing just what she was told not to. She gasped lightly in subtle mix of wonder and shock as she realized just what it was. "The Directory."

"Get outta there." Lucas said, slapping her hands away and taking the laptop from her.

"How on Earth did you finally get into the Directory?"

Lucas shrugged. "I always could."

Christine looked beyond him as she attempted to contemplate how. He definitely didn't have access, and wouldn't have understood him being granted access from someone higher up. "How? If they catch you in the Directory, they'd cancel you."

"Not necessarily."

Almost scowling, Christine shook her head in a gesture of confusion. "Come again?"

"Fine," Lucas sighed as he began his explanation, "I actually was able to get through it a long time ago. They caught me- but considering I'm the best at what I do," he paused there, as if waiting for agreement from Christine, who just stared blankly. Lucas sighed before continuing, "they chose not to cancel me. And they gave me access, don't know why really, guess they just didn't see me as a threat. It's not really a secret or anything," he finished with a shrug.

"But no one knows that you have access."

"I know. I think it makes me seem more dangerous that way."

"And that's your brilliant reasoning?"

He smiled at her meekly. "Hey, it works for me. Girls love a dangerous guy. Take you for example. I'm pretty sure you're in love with someone who almost killed you. You might want to talk about that, I don't think that's a very healthy rela-"

Christine shook her head, interjecting him sharply. "I'm not in love with him."

"You are too."

"No, I'm not," Christine snapped back, rather angrily.

"Stop lying to yourself."

"You're crazy!"

"I'm crazy?"

"Yes!"

"Then you're just delusional…" Lucas concluded as he boyishly shook her off. "Where's your cable for this?" he asked, quickly diverting from the subject. He didn't want to waste his breath on mindless argument.

"Oh, it's in the cabinet, sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just study the profile, never mind the-"

"Can I see my file?" Christine suddenly asked, shooting her signature doe eyes at the young hacker.

Lucas rolled his eyes and sighed. "You can't tell a soul that I showed you."

"I won't, I promise."

"Fine," he said, sitting back down beside the girl as he punched a few digits into the keyboard. "Just look at your own," he advised before reaching out and taking her panel.

Christine skimmed through her file, though nothing came to a huge surprise for her. Had she not already known, her status of an abeyance operative would have been quite a shock. At least with Lucas' help she could survive whatever mission they would choose to send her on.

_Okay, this isn't very impressive. I was half expecting an omnipotent record of every thought I ever had in this thing. And I especially appreciate these touches; 'Has a fondness for her mentor, Erik Vachon. Possibility of a personal or romantic relationship between the two…' Yes, because I am after all, a masochist. I wonder…_

Christine raised her head, glancing at Lucas from the corner of her eye.

_I'll only be a moment._

As quietly as she could, Christine entered Erik's name into the Directory, hoping that Lucas was too poured into what he was doing to notice. The very corners of her lips twitched upwards slightly as she entered it, pleased that she was not denied access. Reading quickly through it, Christine held in her gasp as she swept through Erik's past.

_First killed at sixteen… the owner of a Carnival he worked in… doing what? What- oh, God… _

"Christine, what are you- Christine!"

Christine wrenched away the laptop as Lucas tried to take it from her. "Please, Luc, I have to see this."

"No, you don't understand!" Lucas went for it again, but Christine stood up and backed away from the sofa.

"What in here is so bad that I shouldn't see?" Christine marched behind the counter, setting it down as she clicked on the file of photographs.

"Well, nothing really, but don't you think you should respect Erik's privacy?"

Christine stared at him for a moment before turning her attention back to the computer. "No." She stated simply, leaving no room for argument.

"He'd be angry if he knew-"

"I don't care," she whispered as she uploaded the photo file provided, "I really don't think Erik was worried about my own." When the photos finally came up, Christine gasped loudly causing Luc to come to her side and look. "Oh, God…"

Erik was a child in the photographs; he couldn't have been older than sixteen. He was bound and gagged upright what Christine swore to be a coffin. The coffin seemed to be in a cage, and there were about a half dozen spectators surrounding the enclosed area.

_My God… how could anyone do that to a child… _

Just as she tore herself away from the godforsaken expression in his eyes, Christine felt herself beginning to feel faint. His face… if one could call it a face, for it was only slightly reminiscent of a face, a horrific face if there ever was one- it was something she could only imagine in her nightmares. She knew he was scarred, but she never had grasped just the true extent until now. Placing her hand over her mouth, Christine regretfully turned her head to the side as she felt the bile rise in her throat. She reached behind her, stumbling for a moment as she touched the sink to make sure it was still there incase she needed it. As she turned back around, she found Lucas gazing at what she assumed was still the photo of Erik unmasked. But, Christine did not look.

"Well, that's disgusting," Lucas plainly retorted, in an almost matter-of-factly matter that Christine believed was grossly understated. "Look, I think that's the bone-"

Tearing the computer away from her colleague, she scoffed as she re-positioned herself on the sofa. "Don't do that, Lucas, it's like you're dissecting him or something," she said, as she brought the cursor to the small 'x' in the top right corner.

"Oh, yes, because you looking like you're about to be sick is even better."

"I-" Christine began to defend herself, but knew she couldn't justify her reaction. "I thought I'd be able to handle it."

"I'm sure that's what a lot of people thought."

Christine froze, her hands clenching the side of the counter. "What?"

"Well, I'm sure you're not the first operative in Section to see it, sweetie."

"No, Erik wouldn't… how?"

"Well, I might have peaked in the public showers once or twice…"

"You what-"

Lucas rolled his eyes at her surfacing naïveté, and clicked his tongue. "Joking. It was a joke. I saw it uncovered once when he was in Medical. It looked a lot worse than those photographs."

Christine bit down on her lip as she thought about what 'worse' would look like. "I wonder why," she whispered to herself.

"I don't know, anyway… I-" Lucas reached outwards to snatch the computer out of her arms and Christine, who was still rather shocked, wasn't quick enough to keep her hold on it.

"Lucas, I think you're hiding something…" her reply was stiff, suspicious.

"No, I-"

Christine nearly squeaked as she heard four solid knocks on the other side of the door. "It's him," she whispered, her hands visibly beginning to shake as she rose to her feet and approached the door. She stared at the handle absentmindedly while Lucas hurried to shut down the program. Christine knew she didn't want to see him right now, and it wasn't just because she had seen his face… after all, he **had **tried to kill her. She was frightened of him…more than she would have liked to admit. "What do I do?" Christine asked timidly; quiet enough so that Lucas had to strain to hear her. She hoped Erik hadn't.

Lucas furrowed his brows as he closed his laptop. "Open it…"

Nervously biting her lip, Christine turned the handle and opened the door. Just as she feared, Erik stood in front of her, towering over her petite frame as he had done several times before. His white mask was back in place, and the injuries he had sustained appeared to have healed. She couldn't be certain though, the only skin that wasn't covered by some kind of black cloth was the left of his face. Christine tried to push all thoughts of the right side out of her mind as she looked up at him. "Erik," she whispered, more to herself.

"May I come in?"

Christine panicked; she knew she wasn't quite ready to face him yet. She didn't want to talk to him. Gulping nervously, she shook her head as she forced out a squeaky "no," and shut the door, hurrying to lock it.

"Are you out of your mind!?!" Lucas hissed as he watched Christine deadbolt the door.

"I don't know what to say to him!"

Before Lucas could even open his mouth to reply, the door wretched open so fast that Christine couldn't even comprehend what was happening before she found herself pressed up against the wall. Erik stood in front of her; his hand was flat against the stucco just above her head. He made a visible effort to swallow down his rage as he turned his head slightly towards the younger man. "Leave."

A hard, stony silence befell the two as they stood there, only mere inches separating them. Christine looked up at him defiantly, drawing in deep breaths through clenched teeth as Erik leaned in closer.

_And I think that's a good place to leave it. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter, but I still have the last part with Erik to go, so I just figured I'd split it into two so you guys had this while I finished up. And so you guys know I haven't abandoned this either! So, here it is, and one more chapter to go. I've also decided to do a sequel-I have some good ideas and I'm really excited about it. It'll focus more on Christine and Erik rather than the Section… I've already written up a basic outline, I'm so pumped to get started. Anyway, the last chapter for UT should be up by the end of the month- reading week's coming up soon so I'm gonna try to get as much writing as I can. Toodles._

_And thanks to Animekitty47 for pointing out the mistakes, I really appreciate it!_


	23. Until Tomorrow

_Hey guys, I'm sorry I took so long to get this done- it's been such a busy time for me. Anyway, I'm sure you don't want to read me ramble so I'll just get to the last chapter. Again, there will be a sequel- I'm not entirely sure when but I'll try to get it started, um, within the next few months. And P.S- this one has some references to Leroux, kudos to who finds it._

* * *

The steady ticking of the clock was the only sound that could be heard in Christine's apartment, save for the breathing of the two occupants. Out of the corner of his eye, Erik could see her hands trembling, despite the fact she was staring at him rather defiantly. His features softened slightly as she reached out and touched her fingertips to the hair just above where his first button was casually undone. "Christine," he breathed as she laid her hands against his chest. Not many circumstances surprised the masked man, but this certainly did.

"Erik," she replied softly, and she watched him lean forward to take her lips. A smirk crossed her face as he got close enough, and just as their lips were about to touch she used her strength to push him away. Quickly wheeling around on her heel, she bolted over to the kitchen, swiftly climbing over the island to pull her glock 35 pistol out of the cabinet. It took less than a moment until the pistol was level with Erik's head.

Although he didn't move, he mentally scolded himself for his foolishness a few seconds ago. "I see you're not one to forget a grudge."

"No," was all that the blonde agent bothered to say in response.

Erik only nodded, clearing his throat before he began. "Christine, I am sorry about your-"

"Shut up," she hissed, walking around the island so as there was no other barrier between her and the man. Neither her grip on the pistol, nor her arm faltered however. "Why are you here?"

"I suppose then your big mouthed sidekick hasn't informed you."

"The abeyance mission."

"That's right," he said, holding out his panel for her to take.

Christine crept cautiously forward, although she did not put down her weapon. She took the panel from Erik's outstretched arm. "Since when does Operations not brief abeyance missions?" She asked bitterly, as she held the panel just far enough so she could read it and keep an eye on her fellow agent.

"Operations felt it was better if I personally briefed you for this one. It is of the utmost importance that we succeed-"

"For who? For you? Operations? The Section?" She slowly began to walk around the small apartment. "Why should I care?"

"It is not just for the Section, this is a terrorist threat- hundreds, possibly thousands of civilian lives are at stake."

Christine chuckled bitterly, "since when did you care?"

"All the information you could possibly require is on that panel. I would suggest you familiarize yourself with it," he stated calmly, effectively dodging her question.

"No thanks, I'm not interested."

"You don't have a choice."

"Yes I do."

Erik shook his head and took a step forward. "No, you can't bypass abeyance missions, Christine. You know this."

"I can defer them though, why die now when I can die later…"

Erik closed his eyes, turning away from the woman. This was not the way it was supposed to be, it was not the way her life was supposed to play out. Erik wondered why she must always be so difficult, why she could not simply follow orders. If she had they would not be in this position now. "Christine," he breathed softly, but firmly.

"I don't regret what I did. I regret not succeeding. I regret my father's death."

Once again, Erik dodged the subject. "Your mission is tomorrow, I've given you more information than you need. If you study it well, it should increase survival rate by fifteen, maybe sixteen or seventeen percent.

"Great, so there's an 85 chance I might die tomorrow either way," Christine tossed the panel back to him, a little harder than what she intended but it wasn't as if that mattered, "thanks for your generosity, but no thanks."

"Stop being so foolish, Christine."

Christine was silent for a moment, though her eyes never left him. "You know," she began, barely above a whisper, "I think I'd rather die now than later."

However, before she was even able to turn her weapon on herself, she crashed full force into the wall behind her. Her wrists were pinned to the wall and she tried to keep her hold of the pistol, but it was not long until he had it wrestled out of her grip. "No," she whimpered, as he dropped it and kicked the weapon across the room. "Let me go," Christine hissed as she struggled in his grip.

"There'll be none of that."

"Let me go, Erik, I'm serious!"

"So am I," he said, as he reluctantly loosened his grip on Christine's wrists, enough so she once again took the opportunely to push him away. Neither of them said a word as Christine crossed the small area of her apartment to the sofa where her weapon had been quick towards. Without breaking their eye contact, she quickly bent over to retrieve the small pistol. She then walked forward, each step evenly paced and announced. Once again, she raised her arm so that the barrel was level with Erik's neck.

"Erik," she started softly, "give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Erik said nothing for a long while, and Christine never wavered. She was slightly shocked as he closely began to walk towards her, so close that the barrel of the gun and his skin at his neck were almost touching. Almost.

Christine couldn't read him at all, and she wondered silently to herself what he was doing. Was he going to retaliate again? Grab the weapon and turn it on her? It's not like it was the first time. Truth be told, however, she didn't know if she could actually harm Erik. Still, after all this time, she still was not like them. She couldn't harm someone she cared about.

But, it obviously didn't mean she couldn't bluff.

Erik reached out and touched his fingertips to Christine's, grazing the calloused skin holding the pistol in a death's grip. "I can't think of a single reason." When Christine said nothing in response he uncharacteristically continued, "Do it, Christine."

Christine stifled back a sob by biting her lip as she pressed her weapon further against him. "I should," she whispered.

"Yes."

Shaking her head, Christine brought her hand to her side and slowly placed the gun on the coffee table. "I can't."

"Then you've failed us both, Christine."

"So, what else is new…" she bit back as she opened the balcony doors and stepped outside to the chilly night air.

"It was your last chance to prove you still could belong to the Section," he replied as he followed her.

Christine wheeled around on her heel to face him, annoyance clearly written across her features. In a move that was perhaps more out of reflex than conscious thought, her hand flew out to catch the unmasked side of Erik's face. Christine wasn't exactly an advocate for domestic violence on any account, but she did feel better after slapping him. After all he put her through; it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it. She cleared her throat and straightened up before making her verbal response. "I thought we already have this established, I never have belonged in Section, I never could and I never will, you should know this by now," Christine hissed.

Erik didn't bother to place his hand over his stinging cheek; he refused to give her that satisfaction. He couldn't hold it against the girl though; Christine was not the first woman he held some kind of affection for to slap him. He grabbed her arm and closed the short distance between them. He replied the same, "What should I do with you, Christine?"

Christine stood there gazing up at him, defiantly, but with an intensifying look about her. She finally licked her lips before giving her answer. "If you loved me," she began softly, "you would let me go."

"You speak very confidently, my dear."

"Please, Erik, I have more than confidence to back that up." The masked man was silent, so as to let her continue. "I know how you were under orders to watch me after the accident, you said so yourself. I know you rescued me, that one night when I took that short cut."

"I was under orders to protect you, it doesn't mean anything."

Christine sighed, "you chose me to be your wife."

"You needed more experience in the field."

"That's not what you said before. I heard from Nadir that Regina has always been your choice for these 'valentine' missions, but you didn't pick her this time. It was me. Why?"

"Christine…"

"Answer the question, Erik."

For a long time, no one moved or spoke a word. There was a strange tension in the room, but it wasn't a violent one. Christine, however, let her frustration get the best of her and she stalked to front door, prying it open. "I want you to leave. I have the profile, I'll cover it tonight."

Erik followed Christine to the door, stopping just in front of the frustrated girl. "Christine, I won't see you before the mission.

Christine bowed her head and closed her eyes as she continued to hold the door open. "its better that way," she said softly, and then turned her head. "Just go."

The masked man placed his hand up against the frame, refusing to be dismissed that way. Christine was assigned an abeyance mission soon, and he knew he wouldn't see her before it. He also knew she wasn't going to come back. He didn't want it to end like this. Erik leaned forward towards the woman, and whispered softly. "Christine, it was because of you."

"What?"

"It was your being around that broke me from what I had done…"

"What did you do?" Christine asked, as she quietly shut the door again. What was this?

Erik looked like he clearly did not want to answer her, but he did anyway. He sighed before continuing, "All the killings, Christine. I first killed when I was twelve; it was how I came into the Section. Then, it just became a way of life for me. I don't even know the reason why it was necessary, all we're ever told is that we're doing this for the 'greater good', whatever that may be," the masked man stopped for a moment, as he padded slowly to the ivory sofa. He sat down on it, grasping his hands together in thought. It was only a moment before Christine joined him, and he stiffened slightly as he felt her next to him. He wet his lips before continuing, "when I was under orders from Operations to protect you, at whatever cost, I saw innocence for the first time. I'm not proud for watching you, Christine, but I promise you I did not violate your privacy. But it was your innocence, your naivety even, that showed me that the world- the people outside of Section- it wasn't as dark and as evil as I had always thought it was."

"Then why are you still here, Erik? What does the Section offer you that you couldn't get anywhere else?" Christine asked softly, as she gently placed her hand over his.

"Acceptance." He said simply before he paused, leaving Christine to assume he was speaking about his face and the mask. Of course, she was right. "I'm deformed, Christine. It's not something I can ever get away from. My own mother hated me from the moment she birthed me, all on account of this face. In Section, no one cares. And if they do, it doesn't matter. We're all treated the same. It doesn't matter who fucks up, we all face the same consequences for our failures. Everyone is just trying to survive. And I certainly did not get to Level 4 because of my looks. I followed orders, and I was good at something- at destroying life I suppose it was. But, it was for the 'greater good', I was told."

Christine blinked a few times, before leaning forward and clasping her own hands together. "Kill ten to save eleven? Does that constitute a greater good to you?"

"It was good enough for me at the time. I'm trying to tell you Christine, that I lived for the Section. It's all I have. That's why, I'm sorry to say, that I couldn't have you threatening it. It's all I could say that I had."

"No, it _was _all you had. You could have had more, Erik. If you would just stop believing these ridiculous lies you were told you could have lived for something else."

There was a light chuckle to his side, but there didn't seem to be any life in it. "Yes, I suppose I could have."

"Why didn't you-"

Erik held up his hand to interject her question. "I had something, Christine, but I was afraid to admit it because if I didn't, it couldn't be taken away from me like everything else had been," he paused, and Christine swore her heart did for a moment as well. "I didn't think it was enough, because I wanted the whole world along with it, but I didn't think I could have either."

Christine swallowed before she whispered her reply, "What did you want?" It couldn't have been Beatrix… could it? It couldn't have been…

"You."

The first crystalline tear formed in her eye as reached out to his mask. She couldn't quite find her voice yet, but she hoped that he would understand. Her nails went under the edges and she gently removed it, revealing the grotesque face that was hidden beneath the porcelain. Christine placed her hand on the ruined side of his face, and he flinched slightly at her touch. Leaning forward, Christine lightly touched his lips with her own in a gentle, soft kiss. Her mouth was warm and soft against his unyielding one, and against his broken skin. All too quickly, Erik found himself overwhelmed by the sensation and he pulled her body to his, embracing her closely and tightly. "Thank you, Christine," he whispered against her hair as he held her.

Christine returned the embrace with all the lustre he had given her and every few moments ran her hand along his back in an attempt to sooth his sobs. "It's okay now, Erik. It'll be okay."

_It won't though, will it?_

Erik was the first to pull away, but he did so almost determinedly. Christine was about to question but he quickly placed a finger over her lips to cut her off. "Wait here."

"O-okay,"

Erik disappeared into the small bathroom just adjacent to Christine's bedroom, and came out a minute or two later with a small, silver box. He brought it to her, and set it on the table gently.

"What's this?" Christine asked as she watched him press a tiny button on the side. It opened up, revealing a small gun-like object with a needle protruding from the barrel, and a vial. "Erik…"

The man was silent as he picked it up and attached the vial to the end of it. Erik then turned to Christine. "Do you remember when you first woke up in the white room?"

"Yes."

"It was right after we had injected this tracking device into you. It's just a part of the necessary procedure, it's been given to everyone in Section," he informed her, "lay down."

"Erik, what are you doing?"

"Just trust me. Please."

Christine nodded, and hesitantly did as she was told. She laid across the sofa, watching Erik closely as he used a hand to lift up her sweater slightly to a few inches above her belly button. "Can you hold that there please?" Christine didn't say anything; she only grasped the hem of her sweater and held it where he wanted.

"This might hurt a little bit, I'm sorry," Erik told her as he injected the substance into her stomach. Christine whimpered slightly, and he quietly apologized again for hurting her. After a moment, he told her she could sit up again.

"What was that?"

"It's effectively removed the tracking device, it was disintegrated," he said, grasping her upper arms to help her up.

"Erik, what's going on?"

"I'm letting you go."

"What?"

"You can't go on that mission, Christine. You won't come back."

"It's that the point of abeyance missions?"

"Pack your things, quickly," he cut her off again as she tried to speak, "Quickly, Christine. Pack your clothing, everything you need. Meet me out in the parking lot, at your car in five minutes."

"Erik-"

"Five minutes."

Christine watched as the door closed behind him. "What is going on?" she whispered to herself as she trotted to her bedroom, pulling out two duffel bags to shove all her belongings into. She took a plastic grocery bag from inside the cabinet to all but dump all her photos and frames into. It did not take her long to collect her things as she neared the door and turned around to scope her small apartment for anything she may have missed and left behind.

"The mask," she breathed as she walked over, wrapping the small porcelain object in her coat before leaving her residence for good.

* * *

Scoping the parking lot, Christine found her car, and her Erik right beside it, just as he said he would be. It was dark, long after midnight and no one was around, which Christine assumed the man was thankful for. When he saw her he walked forward to meet her almost half way, helping with her bags as together they carried them the short distance to her car. Christine popped the truck open, and watched him as he loaded all her belongings into it. She quickly and silently moved to the passenger side of the car to open the door and gently set the coat onto it. Christine shut the door just as Erik had shut the trunk.

"Here, I have something for you Christine," he said, as he retrieved the briefcase he had placed on the ground for a moment. He set it on the trunk as he opened it to show her, allowing himself a smile at her gasp.

"My God, Erik, there has got to be fifty thousand dollars in there."

"Yes, about that," he said, placing it in the backseat.

"Erik, I can't take that money."

"You'll need it to start a new life, Christine. You're going to need to start from scratch. It's the only way you'll be safe. You'll find a small cellular phone packed away in the case as well, that must be our only method of contact, and even that must be kept to a minimum."

Christine couldn't believe what she was hearing… was he actually helping her escape? "Erik, what about my file? They still have me on the Directory."

"Don't worry, Christine, I'll take care of it. I'll take care of everything, I promise."

Christine shook her head as she placed her hand on his face once more. "Come with me."

"I can't," he replied solemnly, as he leaned into her gentle, forgiving touch. "I can't protect you from the outside. We wouldn't be safe."

"Erik, we'll see eachother again... we have to..." she breathed, softly caressing the ruined side of his face. Again she caught his lips between her own as she curled her fingers in his hair. Erik in turn could do nothing but almost awkwardly wrap his arms around her body.

Christine's hands fell about his neck as the kiss ended, and he continued to hold her as they made their way to the other side of the car. He opened the door for her, and helped her inside. Instead of shutting the door however, he crouched on the ground next to where she sat.

"I'm sorry, Christine, for everything you've been through because of me. Because of something I've done..."

"Erik," she said, continuing to run her fingers through his hair, "it's already been forgiven. I only wish you could come with me." He opened his mouth to reply, but she reached out to press her finger against his lips. She saw another tear form in the corner of his right eye, and as it fell she swiped it gently away with her thumbs. "It's okay now, Erik, it'll be okay," she whispered, giving him an honest smile.

Erik nodded and rose, hesitantly pressing his lips to her forehead. "Get as far away from here as you can, they'll be looking for you soon. Try to get over the border," he breathed against the skin he had just pressed his lips to.

"Right," she replied as he straightened up. Christine placed the keys into the ignition and started up the vehicle. Before he shut the door, she stepped out and grasped his hands in her own. "I'll miss you." He turned his head to the side as she pressed a last kiss to his fingertips.

"Christine," Erik began, barely above a whisper. His voice broke as he continued, "I love you."

She smiled warmly and brought gently patted his hand with her own before letting go. Christine mouthed the words back to him as she seated herself back in her car. Nothing more was said between the two as he closed the door. He watched the woman he loved reverse the car, and drive out of the lot, sparing him one last glance as she disappeared from his sight.

Erik stood there, and a strange sense of peace enveloped him for the first time in his life. Although she was gone, he had something that would forever be his, and the scars that would last forever no longer had the power to hurt him anymore.

_It's over now._

_Alright, I just want to say a short thank you to all of you who have stuck with me when I was writing this thing. To those who reviewed, it meant alot to get your input and to know that people we're enjoying this thing. I said in the previous chapter that there will be a sequal, but I want to get to other things first before I start that. I'm sorry to say that it probably won't be for a while (watch, now that I've said that I'll probably start writing it anyway, it always happens), so if you want to know when it's up just give me a shout and I'll msg you when I put it up, but the easiest way it just to use the author alert thingy. Anyway, I just want to get this to you, so I'll stop talking. I hope you weren't dissappointed. Thanks again to the reviewers listed below and to those who have this favourited or alerted, you know who you are._

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_For those of you who have read through this some time after it was finished, please, I would love to hear from you. It's never too late to share your thoughts. _


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